Blaine Didn't Know He Was In Love
by Corriebird
Summary: The week the Warblers decided to try "Misery" for one of their Regionals performances, Blaine wasn't really paying attention to how Kurt was feeling, until Kurt made him. Rated M for the epilogue. Follows canon, EXCEPT FOR THE EPILOGUE, WHICH GOES WAY OFF IN ITS OWN, SMUTTY DIRECTION.
1. Chapter 1

Leading up to the song "Misery", in 2:16. Just had an idea for how the whole thing happened.

Blaine did not know that Kurt was mad at him, specifically, but at the same time, Blaine knew that Kurt was pissed, or stressed, or under pressure, or whatever. He didn't think about it, because he had a ton of things to think about. Like David's love life, or the new episode of Modern Family. His knee had done this weird popping thing the other day and he didn't know if he should get it checked out by a real doctor or let it sort itself out. So at the Warbler meeting when Wes said, "I've been listening to Maroon Five a lot lately," and everyone got very excited, and Wes asked Blaine to look over the lyrics to "Misery," so he could solo it, he just nodded and rotated his leg a little bit to see if the popping thing would happen again. Kurt heaved a sigh, next to him on the couch.

After practice Blaine caught up with Kurt in the hall. "Hey so, Misery."

"Well, if we're going to do Maroon Five, I guess that's a good one, although with Wes and David both listening to it all last week-I just shouldn't have burned them that CD that Cede's gave me."

"You don't like it? But it's so peppy!" Blaine grabbed Kurt by the shoulders and shook him a little. "Come on! It's going to sound great! We'll take romantic anguish to the next level! The next, cheerful level."

"I know I know."

"And there's that section where we'll get to bang on tables!"

"Are we going to lug tables onstage for regionals?" Kurt arched an eyebrow as they made it to the cafeteria.

"We'll figure something out." Blaine brushed the problem away. Kurt was looking out the windows of the cafeteria as they waited in line. Blaine tugged on his blazer, smoothing it along Kurt's shoulder, rubbing a little as he went. "You sound tired. You sound stressed. Want to get coffee or something?"

Kurt flashed him a smile, and Blaine thought, just for a second, _His eyes are blue today,_ before Kurt shook his head and sighed again."Thanks, but I have to get through a paper on Thoreau. I swear that man was getting it on with every woodsman in Concord." Kurt brushed in front of him and grabbed a tray, a salad, an apple and a water.

"I'll get it, Kurt, don't worry about it." Blaine pushed forward to pay for their meals, setting his tray down, digging out his wallet and briefly gripping Kurt's upper arm. "I always thought Thoreau was playing for our team. I mean, why else would he go out to the woods, talking about flowers and fruit and manly endeavors?"

"That's what I said."

"And did you see his picture? That neck beard! I think he wanted to scare away any potential ladies." They reached their normal table.

"That's what I said! But Mrs. Paulson thinks he was just introverted." Kurt laid his napkin on his lap. Kurt's crossed legs, which could rock a pair of skinny jeans on the weekend, like they did last weekend, reminded Blaine of his earlier problem.

"Oh hey, I wanted to ask you. My knee is doing this weird popping thing and I didn't know if it was serious or not. Do your knees pop?" Blaine looked at his knees, then at Kurts, then up at Kurt, who was regarding him with serious, wide eyes. Blaine had a flash of _Green in this light_ before Kurt asked him about specific instances of the pop, and said that they'd take a look at it tonight, after Kurt finished his paper. Yes, they would look at his knees tonight, and Kurt would tell him his knees were fine, and that maybe he was overworking them. Maybe Kurt would tell him to put a brace on it. And then they'd talk more about Thoreau and Kurt wouldn't be tired or stressed-or at least he'd be happy enough to balance the other things out. Kurt happy was preferable to Kurt unhappy because Kurt unhappy meant more sarcastic, cynical one liners and less sashaying, twirling, giggling awesomeness. So Blaine sat back and in his chair and said, "Thanks Kurt, I owe you one," flashing a smile. Then he waved to Wes coming in the door and missed the way Kurt's lips tightened and eyes flared.

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Kurt ended the skype call with a grumble. Everything was great at home; the shop had a steady flow of customers, Carol's work was for the moment drama free, and Finn was spending more time with Rachel, which meant he was happier over all. But Rachel was attempting song writing-a horrible song about only children, which she wanted the group to sing for Regionals. Finn said no one else really liked the idea of original songs, or at least not enough, so Rachel was pretty much it and he wasn't sure if she was going to get past head band material. They'd probably end up doing 80's stuff again. Santana was vying for a solo.

With all the screwed up things that plagued New Directions, why did they have to hit him over the head with all the good stuff? Why hadn't the weekly solos and freedom of expression been as important before? But now Kurt was stuck doing back up all day, every day, forever and ever and ever, and staring constantly at the suave (if over gelled) hair, the giant mouth, the solid (so solid) torso, the cute butt, and the popping knees of one Blaine Anderson. All the time he had to watch Blaine be adorable for everyone else. Blaine could flirt successfully with a chair. Who's the one in misery now? Kurt was in misery; Blaine paraded around and sometimes danced himself into a sweat and Kurt couldn't freaking touch or taste or even look askance. And there was no chance to distract himself or get even, or feel evenly matched with his own solo so that maybe Blaine would have to be the one looking at Kurt's hair and Kurt's butt-no, Blaine would take front and center every time.

He'd had it up to here with this whole Blaine-Takes-Over-The-World-And-Kurt-Laps-It-Up thing. Thoreau was talking about apples as a metaphor for something, Kurt hadn't figured out what, yet, and Blaine was coming up soon with coffee so that Kurt would reassure him that yes, his body was, in fact, perfect. Great. What if Kurt wanted to know if _his_ body was perfect? What if he wanted to know if Blaine would do back up for _him_? What if he wanted to actually do his homework and not worry about it, for once? Gah.

So when Blaine knocked, holding coffee in front of him like a trophy, smiling with eyes that looked at Kurt like they look at everything else, chairs included, Kurt found himself feeling decidedly contrary.

"I don't see anything wrong with your knee." Kurt would not focus on how shapely Blaine's calves were, at the straight, dark hair, at the small bit of thigh exposed as Blaine held his pant leg, rolled up, just above the knee.

Blaine frowned. "You're not a doctor though, what if I pulled something? What if the bones are coming out of their sockets?"

The leg was still out, looking masculine and lovely. "You're being an hypochondriac. There's nothing wrong with your knees." Kurt turned away, leaning over his desk, down at his laptop. "You can put your leg away now. I saw all kinds of injuries when I was on the Cheerios and your knee looks like the picture of health."

Blaine considered his leg for another second and then let his pant leg fall over his shoe. "Well great! Thanks Kurt!" He wrapped Kurt into a hug from behind, which, because both boys were devoid of blazers, was just chests and thin shirts and tight arms. Kurt felt Blaine's heat soaking into his back, Blaine's chin on his shoulder, Blaine's wide hands spread on his chest.

After a moment Kurt said, "You're welcome. Anytime." his voice was gruff, lower than normal, and he blushed when he heard it.

"You ok? Bad week? The coffee will cheer you up." Blaine was still hugging him.

"Just tired. Thoreau's been difficult." Kurt took a final breath, and turned to loosen Blaine's grip. He couldn't deal with this much closeness. Not now, not when he knew Blaine didn't mean anything by it and was just being infuriatingly friendly. Blaine had always been touchy feely but today more so than ever. "Thanks. You should probably get back, though, you have that french test, right?"

"Oh right." Blaine shrugged. "Je peux parle francais moy bueno."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Don't do _that_ tomorrow and it will improve your odds dramatically," he said as he led Blaine to the door.

Blaine grabbed his hand and placed it, entwined with his own fingers, over Blaine's heart. "Peut-etre tu peux aider moi avec los trans-lattes."

Kurt disentangled his hand. "That wasn't even a word."

"Los Translattes? Si Si! Mucho Bueno a word. A word pour la cafe, translated en francais!"

"Good night, Blaine." The door was almost shut.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered.

"Yes?" Kurt looked Blaine straight in the eyes, _Chocolate, Mocha, Warmth_, _Want._

Blaine was staring at him with a small smile. "Thanks for looking at my knee."

Kurt huffed. "Anytime, Blaine. Go to bed."

Then the door shut, and Kurt curled up in bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried not to remember how Blaine's breath felt on his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! In the last however many minutes since I put this story up, I've gotten a bunch of story alerts and favorite story additions. I just want to thank you! I never thought people would cotton on to this. I just wrote because Glee has that bracket up, and I was watching Misery again and thought, "I bet I know how that whole episode happened." Thanks so much! I hope you like this next installment, if there's enough interest I'll keep up and finish the whole thing. I have the time, so, why not? **

**This is fan-produced, not for any profit or gain (except the power of daydreaming). I don't own the characters, nor do the characters own me (even though sometimes I feel like they might). **

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><p>Blaine was considering calling Finn for some advice on Kurt. Maybe Mercedes. What did Kurt need when he was stressed out? What things made Kurt mad? When he was stressed, what did he do? He'd seen scared, freaked out Kurt, with the whole Karofsky thing, and he'd seen happy, excited Kurt, with any number of Vogue covers. Every day Kurt was playful and funny, a little bit of armor and a lot of sass. But this was the first time he'd seen pissed off Kurt.<p>

Pissed off Kurt showed up for breakfast.

"No, Blaine, I can pay for my own meal, thank you," and, "Why should you walk me to class? Your homeroom is on the opposite side of campus. You're always late. Get moving." The last one, the cincher, the one that had Blaine blinking and scrolling through his contacts, hoping he'd exchanged numbers with Mercedes last time they met (nope, no dice), was, "No, I don't think I want to watch YouTube videos of Wicked this afternoon." That was when Kurt politely excused himself, spun on his heel and walked away.

Blaine just looked after him for a minute. No one was bothering Kurt-Blaine knew because he was with Kurt almost every second of every day, except for class and every so often when David needed to spill about his girl problems, or whenever Kurt shoved Blaine out of his room because he had to study or sleep or shower or something. So this wasn't a bullying thing. Maybe something happened with Burt. Blaine seized on that idea. It was probably a family thing. But then, no; Kurt would have mentioned something-and pissy wasn't the reaction Kurt would have if Burt had had more heart troubles; at least, he wouldn't be pissy without telling Blaine why.

Blaine, still watching Kurt's retreat, reached out an arm, blocking David from walking by. "Hey, David, does Kurt seem...upset to you? Or mad, or something? Did he say anything to you?" David looked down at the arm barring his way down the hall, then slowly swung his body around it, like he was Neo in The Matrix.

Blaine shot him a look and dropped his arm.

David rolled his eyes. "Blaine. I don't talk to Kurt every day like some people. How should I know?"

"He just said he didn't want to watch YouTube Wicked Videos."

"Yeah, neither do I; you're the only freak who likes that stuff."

Wes caught up to the two, slow-motion karate-chopped David, and said, "Who's a freak who likes what stuff?" as David performed another matrix move in response.

"Wes, was Kurt being weird this morning?"

"I don't know, I don't drop by his dorm to kiss him good morning like _some_ people." David and Wes snickered, and began to pretend punch each other.

"Holy Toledo, guys. Could you get a grip?" Blaine said. "Maybe Kurt's upset about something."

"The only thing Kurt's upset about is that you're not in bed with him _right now_."

"David!"

"It's true!"

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again to glare at his friends. "For the last time. We talked about this. We're friends. Just because we're both gay and appreciate the unique understanding, insight and perspective that gives us doesn't mean we have to jump each other or-you know what, never mind. Clearly you won't listen to my problems like I listen to yours."

David said, "Oh come on, Blaine! That's not fair. Your problems are like, which characters from RENT are actually going to live past thirty, or whether Kurt's right that our uniforms are outdated. My problems are like, whether Jenny is going to bring the entire sky down on my head, and then talk about it to Vivi, who will then collapse the solar system when she finds out what Wes made me do."

"I didn't make you do anything, David, that's such bull."

"Nu uh. You totally sucker punched me when I wasn't looking. You totally wormed your way into my skull and set little subliminal messages. '_David, playing Halo is much more important than calling your girlfriend on her birthday; she won't mind; she'll be glad you were having fun. She'll think you're such a strong man for defeating all the aliens.'_ Like that."

Wes looked outraged. "I absolutely did NOT send you subliminal messages. YOU hopped into my room and said 'Hey, Wes, let's play Halo.' How was I supposed to know it was Jenny's Birthday? I don't miss Vivi's, that's just mean. Take That!" Wes slo-mo punched the side of David's head.

Blaine rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, you guys are no help what so ever. If you see Kurt, be nice to him, ok? Maybe promise him a cake or something."

Wes groaned. "Blaine, have you thought that maybe Kurt is overwhelmed with schoolwork? Or that, I don't know, he had a bad dream last night? Or maybe he ran out of moisturizer? Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all."

"I don't think Kurt is upset because of me. Wait. What? You think Kurt is mad because of something _I_ did? I didn't do anything! Last night I brought him coffee. Why would he be mad at _me_?"

"No, Blaine, I'm saying I _don't_ think that."

"Good. Because I'll have you know that I'm an awesome best friend."

"Maybe you should ask him. Like when Jenny didn't call me for three days, I finally called her and asked what was up. See? I took the high road, there."

Wes said, "No, you took the 'I forgot about your birthday now let's get it on' road. Just so you know, that road is decidedly middle ground."

"I cannot believe we're friends."

"Halo after class?"

"I'm so done with that game."

"Fine. Ghostbusters?"

David pretended to consider for a moment. "Yeah ok." He turned to leave. After a couple strides he swung around to face Blaine, who was standing in the corridor, frowning. "Hey Blaine!"

"What?"

"Just talk to him. Gay guys love talking about their feelings, right?" Then he grinned and turned around to follow Wes to their homeroom.

As the course of the morning inched forward, Blaine decided that actually, maybe Wes and David were right. Maybe Kurt was mad for something silly. Maybe Kurt really wanted someone to ask what was wrong. He would ask. He would listen. Kurt was adjusting well to Dalton and maybe felt like he didn't want to complain to Blaine about anything. But Blaine hadn't transferred in that long ago himself (ok, a year and some change, but still, that was nothing compared to Wes, who had gone to Dalton Pre-K, or David, who's parents had gotten him a Dalton prescribed wet nurse while they were commuting to various international conferences). He knew what it was like to have to try and fit in and try to seem grateful all the time. Blaine knew about that stuff. He would ask, and it would be great, and Kurt would lean his head on his hand the way he did, sometimes, and sigh and say, "Blaine, how do you always know what I need?" and Blaine would say, "It's not a big deal. What else are friends for?" Kurt would then hug him, Kurt's cheek pressed against his neck, and then they'd lay on Kurt's bed, side by side, as they watched YouTube videos and laughed and laughed. It would be awesome.

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><p>As soon as Kurt turned the corner, out of range of Blaine's gaping mouth, he leaned against a wall and rubbed his forehead. There was no reason to be mad at Blaine; he was being friendly. <em>Always so very friendly.<em> He couldn't know that Kurt had gotten practically no sleep last night, thinking about their friendship. Whether he could have a friendship with Blaine if he was in love with him or not. Unrequited love never ended well, not in real life, at least. Blaine would find another Jeremiah-one who wasn't overage-and then Kurt would still be pining away, even as Blaine walked hand in hand with someone else, as Blaine went off to college with someone else, as Blaine sent out wedding invitations for him and someone else. It was inevitable, with Blaine as charming, as talented, as caring, as funny and as smart as he was; he was sure to be scooped up in next to no time.

And admittedly, that might be a good thing. Blaine needed to be with someone he was interested in-not just a friend he felt sorry for. And he needed to be with someone who could be physical the way Blaine liked and needed to be physical. The hug from last night was not the first demonstrative act that Blaine liked to pull from nowhere. Touches to the knee, a hand on the back of Kurt's neck, sure thumbs smoothing out a wrinkle in the shoulder of Kurt's shirt, fingers brushing Kurt's hair back into place, a hand at the base of Kurt's spine as they were walking to class. Man, when Kurt counted them all up it seemed like Blaine was always touching him, somehow. Had it always been like this? Was this recent?

It didn't really matter. Kurt liked being touched (by Blaine, at least) but he couldn't just jump into bed the way Blaine probably could. That whole afternoon with Blaine in Kurt's room a couple weekends ago was so awkward and it told Kurt exactly where they both stood when it came to sex. Blaine was comfortable with himself, and probably ready to try things out with another guy; Kurt was not ready.

Although, Kurt admitted to himself last night, he hadn't ever really thought of himself with another guy. When he imagined himself and Finn last year, he just imagined Finn coming up to him in the hall, slinging an arm over Kurt's shoulder, and showing the whole school that yes, the quarterback approved of the well dressed gay kid. Finn's love would have been a popularity force field around him even without Finn around. People would accept him because people accepted Finn. Kurt _once_ imagined kissing Finn, and had blushed so violently his biology teacher had sent him to the nurse.

Blaine was different, obviously. Kurt knew he liked Blaine not because of the side effects a relationship with him would have, but because he had seen Blaine, every once in a while, let his guard down and say something that hinted that Blaine wasn't always so dapper. Kurt wanted to be the one Blaine turned to about his popping knees, or failed french tests. Kurt wanted to be the one to make Blaine feel really good-happy and comforted and relaxed.

Blaine relaxed was a good thought. Blaine smiling, his curly dark hair back on a pillow, breathing deeply, toned chest (a sprinkle of hair on the chest, more in a line pointing donwn his torso), legs splayed out along Kurt's 1000 count cream sheets-holy mackerel, Kurt had just pictured Blaine naked. Blaine _naked_.

It was a really nice image, actually.

So for the rest of the night Kurt explored the whole idea of Blaine naked, and things that he and Blaine might do, together, when they were naked, and the conclusion Kurt had finally drawn at three in the morning was that if he had been in doubt about his sexuality before, he was not in doubt now. Kurt was very interested in Blaine's man parts. Kurt was interested in everything those man parts might do or feel like, and what Kurt's own man parts might do and feel in return.

All the soul/sexuality searching was great, but it didn't make for a lot of sleeping, so when Blaine caught up with Kurt in the hall that morning, Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, remembered that while Kurt now knew he would be very ok with getting physical with Blaine, Blaine did not want to get physical with him. Blaine did not want to be anything but friends, and actually, Blaine wanted to be friends only so long as Kurt agreed with Blaine, followed him around, stayed under Blaine's mother hen wing, and in general consented to be a push over. Not cool.

Kurt shoved off the wall with a sigh, walked to class with the beginning of a headache. When he sat down and opened his notes on watersheds, he looked at his papers without fully comprehending what was written on them. He kept his head down, doodling, and let his thoughts roam while his professor showed slide after slide of water cycles. Kurt finally realized (somewhere in between precipitation and condensation) that it wouldn't help anything to be frustrated; Blaine hadn't done anything wrong, strictly speaking. Kurt was the one allowing this relationship to continue as is. So he would apologize and try to assert his opinions more often in the future. That way, Blaine would gradually begin to have to accept Kurt as an equal partner in this friendship.

So that afternoon, before Warbler practice, when Blaine jumped off the couch he was sitting on across from Thad, mouth open, ready to say something, or ask something or whatever, Kurt held up a hand. Blaine promptly shut his mouth. _That was kind of hot, how he shut his mouth with one move of my-ugh. Task at hand, Kurt, Task at hand!_

"Blaine. I'm sorry I snapped at you this morning. I stayed up really late because of my paper on Thoreau and hadn't had any coffee. So-um, yeah. I didn't mean to snap at you. So yes, I'd love to watch Wicked videos with you, but, well, actually, I just found this new musical I think you'd like, called Starship. It's right up your ally-singing, dancing, puppets of giant bugs, you know, so if you don't mind, I think we should watch that instead. And, also, actually, tonight I can't. I forgot I have family dinner and have to be home tonight. But maybe tomorrow." Wow that came out formal. Whatever. Blaine was smiling.

"Sure. Sounds great."

"Hey Kurt, come here, we need your girlish," David's eyes widened a fraction as he hastily continued, "But oh-so-manly voice for the gi-gigigits!" He held out a piece of sheet music.

"You're not going to make me sound like Quagmire, are you?" Kurt reached forward, but not before he heard a chuckle from Blaine.

"Kurt, you could never sound like Quagmire. Quagmire's raunchy and you're-not raunchy." Blaine said, still smiling a little.

Kurt flushed, remembering last night's personal sex-capades. He looked at the ground. "Well it's good to know I have a clean reputation." Oh, but he wasn't supposed to be letting Blaine make him feel like a young schoolboy who needed tutoring! That's right. Kurt lifted his eyes and locked them on Blaine's. Face hot, he said, "That said, I _am_ a teenaged boy. Just because I don't advertise it doesn't mean I've got the purity of a saint."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "I thought you were into romance."

"I may have recently...decided to try adding other things to my repertoire." Kurt held Blaine's glance for a moment longer and then turned back towards the room at large. Several groups were forming.

"Kurt, if you're done flirting with Blaine, we could use your impeccable tone with the tenors over there," Wes said in his ear, clapping him on the shoulder.

"I wasn't-"

"Mmm hmm. His jaw is on the floor, your ears are red, and I want those gi-gigigit's to be snappy!" Wes shoved Kurt towards one corner. Kurt spent the rest of the hour trying very hard to concentrate on what was in front of him. He was relieved when Wes called a halt, said they'd practice some dance moves, run through the whole combined number once or twice, and then call it a night.

Once or twice turned into eight or nine times, and each time Blaine got more and more rambunctious, as he got more and more comfortable with his cues. First he started jumping on furniture, then he started throwing papers, and then Jeff suggested maybe he should burst into the room for the beginning of the song, like they'd done for Bills Bills Bills. That made Wes suggest they expand out into the hallway in general, so they'd have more room for dancing. Kurt was tired, his head hurt from the lack of caffeine, and although he had suggested some group choreography, he'd been shot down in favor of the boys recreating the various wedding's they'd been to, where guests formed two lines and then did individual dances through the center. Kurt rolled his eyes. Even if Rachel corralled everyone into singing about only unicorn sweaters and knee highs they'd beat the Warblers, if said Warblers were sporting _wedding dance material_. Mr. Shue had gotten much better at choreography recently, and the Warblers obviously hadn't.

"Ok ok, ok guys, I know we're all tired, but lets marshal everything we've got for one more run through. It's almost five-yes, the bells are starting now- but let's make this last one count. Blaine, I really liked what you did last time, throwing papers up in the air as soon as you come through the doors. Try that again, but maybe-maybe fling them higher this time. Joey, remember to keep up the Bom Pows throughout the whole song. Everyone, places!" Wes scuttled to the side as Blaine winked at Kurt, stepped out the doors, and waited a couple seconds (the bells tolling in the background) before throwing them open, singing, _"Oh Yeah!" _and scattering sheet music so that they all fell on Kurt.

And yeah, Kurt might have grimaced throughout the entire performance, and Wes may have glared at him for it a couple times, but Blaine was being chipper enough for the both of them. So when Blaine asked what Kurt thought, at the end, Kurt knew exactly what he wanted to say.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know the conversation after Misery isn't exactly perfect. I tried to get it as canon as possible. If you know the correct wording for that conversation, review to let me know and I'll be happy to change it!**

**Thanks again for all the love!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a lot of free time, a car and two cats.**

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><p>Kurt had added other things to his repertoire? Or he was thinking about it? Or trying to think about it? What did that mean? Did that mean that in between last night's Thoreau paper and this morning's Kurt Attack Kurt had found some guy to-no, that would be ridiculous. Besides, Kurt wanted to watch a new musical with him, himself, Blaine Anderson, tomorrow, which he wouldn't want to do if he'd all of a sudden found a boyfriend out of thin air. No, Kurt 'adding things to his repertoire' was just a ruse, or maybe Kurt had been <em>thinking<em>- Oh man. Blaine knew what Kurt had been _thinking _about. The Warbler's practice room seemed unaccountably warm all of a sudden. Kurt was _thinking _about sex. What _kind_ of sex? Who with?

That's all Blaine had time for before Wes forced him to work on his solo, which he already kind of knew. He kept sneaking glances at Kurt, all through practice, and when Kurt didn't look back Blaine began fidgeting. When they finally put all the parts together, and started having fun with it, he felt kind of reckless, actually. More so then usual. He felt his whole body vibrating(no popping knees), every muscle and tendon. He wanted to race around, push himself to the limit. He wanted to climb and jump and in general do something really really stupid. He wanted to be out of breath. He sang louder and more emphatically each time they went from the top. And the other guys were getting into it too, feeding off Blaine's energy, encouraging him to throw _more_ papers and to jump _higher_ on the couches, and hell, why not expand their dancing out into the rest of the hall?

Man, he _really_ liked this song. Yeah, that's right, Maroon 5 rocked! Holy Tunafish, Maroon 5 was the best band around! Why had Blaine rolled his eyes at Wes's obsession for so long? Why had he naysayed it? Clearly Wes knew what was up. Clearly this song was working it. Clearly they were the greatest choral group that had ever_ lived._

It wasn't until five, when Wes realized how late it was and announced they would run through the song just one more time, that Blaine noticed Kurt looking tired. Of course! Kurt hadn't gotten much sleep last night! He hadn't had much coffee! Poor Kurt-Oh man, now Blaine felt bad for being so amped up. So on that last run through Blaine led Kurt around, touching him, hugging him, making puppy eyes at him, trying to cajole Kurt into letting go just a little bit. Poor Kurt wasn't feeling it. But Blaine was still having a blast. He kind of hoped that his blast-having would rub off, the way it had for the rest of the group. And yes! They got to beat on tables! And this time, now that they were in the hall, the pounding really resonated, you know, really reverberated. Was Kurt _feeling _this? Blaine felt like he could pound the table so hard the legs would break. He felt like his muscles knew no bounds! Yes, they would take this number to Regionals, and Yes, They would win! Watch out world! Blaine Anderson is coming at you with some sweet Maroon 5 under his belt!

Afterwards, after David reminded them to look over their P!nk Medly for tomorrow, and the Warbler's scattered, Blaine noticed Pavarotti's cage in the hall. That's right, Kurt's family thing. He was going home tonight. Ugh. Dumb Families. But there was Kurt, who had been feeling under the weather all today, coming towards him.

Blaine opened with a compliment. "How did you manage to find a Burberry-esque Canary cage cover?"

Kurt said something about canaries being cold, Blaine wasn't sure because all of a sudden he felt very silly, and uncomfortable. Had Kurt gotten taller? And oh no, had Blaine really been excited when the guys started doing the two lined, dancing through the middle thing that happened at weddings? Kurt probably _loved_ that. The whole thing probably bombed. That's why Kurt wasn't feeling it in the last run through. Kurt probably had scathing things to say about the arrangement.

"So, what'd you think of the song?" He asked in a rush.

"Blaine, can I be really honest with you? Because it comes from a place of caring?" Kurt said.

Blaine nodded, slightly relieved. If Kurt wanted to say something from a place of caring it couldn't be that bad.

"Been there done that. Look, you're amazing, Blaine. Your solos are breathtaking." Blaine nodded, the way he had practiced nodding so that various parents or students who inevitably complimented him didn't think he was too excited to hear it. Modest, with a small smile to show how much he appreciated the words. Kurt continued. "They're also numerous."

Hold the phone. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. Blaine crossed his arms in front of him a little, and his brow lowered over his eyes. "Kurt, the council decides who gets the solos." He paused. "Hold on, do I detect a little jealousy?"

"Oh you detect a lot of jealousy. Look, Blaine, sometimes I don't feel like we're the Warblers. I feel like we're Blaine and the Pips." Kurt looked at Blaine for a moment. "I have to go-Dad's expecting me for dinner tonight."

In times of stress it's best to be polite. "Of course. Say hello to your family for me."

"Um, Yes, of course. I'll tell them you said hi." Kurt said, squinting his eyes a little in confusion. "We're still on for Starship, tomorrow, right? I'll be here tomorrow." Blaine nodded, Kurt gave a small, uncomfortable smile, and then he left.

Here? Tomorrow? Amazing Voice? Blaine and the Pips? Blaine and the _Pips_? Is that what was going on? Was he _Blaine and the Pips_? Was he some sort of douche bag who led everyone else around on a string? Some sleezy, smarmy lead singer who screwed everyone around just so they could have an unending run in the spotlight? Or, in turn, was he some old geezer, intent on claiming glory that belonged to a younger generation? That last one may be way off the mark but the first one-was he smarmy? Was he sleazy? What the hell was going on?

Blaine wandered back into the lounge, where papers covered every inch of surface. Blaine flopped (he didn't flop, he gracefully sank, but it felt like flopping to Blaine) in the first couch he came to, and let his limbs lay where they fell. There was only one Warbler left-Jeff, who was stuffing his own things back into his bags and studiously avoiding looking at the chaos around him. After a couple seconds, Blaine said, "Jeff, am I sleazy?"

Jeff looked up, shaking his hair out of his eyes. He frowned. "Um, no?" Blaine continued to stare at him, so Jeff continued. "Um, you're really awesome, Blaine. If I was gay I'd totally be into you. I don't know why Kurt hasn't thrown you into bed already."

Kurt, Bed? Jeff, Gay? What? "What?"

Jeff tightened a strap on his bag. "I said, Kurt should get into your pants like, pronto, before someone else does."

Oh. Blaine automatically answered, "It's not like that, Jeff, we're just friends. Kurt doesn't even like my singing." That's a lie, Kurt said he was amazing. That's right, Kurt _did_ say he was amazing. And breathtaking. Well that's good. But still, Blaine and the Pips? "Or, he doesn't like something. Kurt said we were...Blaine and the Pips."

Jeff frowned again. "Well, Kurt's wrong."

Blaine rolled his eyes and pounced on Jeff's words. "Kurt's not wrong. He's right. You guys are _The Pips_ and I," Blaine let his head fall onto the back of the couch, "Oh holy fudruckers, I am _Blaine._" He covered his whole face with his hands.

Jeff shifted from one foot to another. "Is that so bad? I mean, I like you as our lead singer. Everyone does. I think we kind of all have man crushes on you. We'd probably follow you anywhere."

Blaine let his hands drop to his sides. This was becoming ridiculous. He couldn't think straight. He wanted to go to sleep. Practice had been exhausting. First Kurt had insinuated sexiness, Blaine'd jumped on every piece of furniture he could find, then Kurt had said _numerous _and _Blaine and the Pips, _and now Jeff was talking about man crushes. What the hell. What the hell.

He took a deep breath. "Thanks Jeff, I think."

Jeff took several steps back towards the door. "No problem, Blaine. I think we're going to kill it at regional's."

"Yeah." Blaine waved as Jeff walked out, and then the lounge was left silent.

_Numerous. Blaine and the Pips. Breathtaking. Place of Caring. Blaine and the Pips. Blaine and the Pips. Numerous. Amazing._

Blaine did not think they were going to kill it at regional's. Kurt knew what New Directions had going for them-he maybe didn't know what songs they were picking for the competition, but he knew how they worked, what they'd most likely be doing right now to get ready. Practice today had felt amazing, but Kurt was right, maybe the Warblers had gotten too private-boys-school-ish. Maybe they needed to mix things up. But the Warblers liked everything the same, all the time.

Blaine looked around the room. No sense in leaving this place a mess, especially since he was the one who messed it up in the first place. He slowly got off the couch and started picking up papers closest to him, stacking them in a pile.

But if everyone had man crushes on him, then maybe it wouldn't be so hard to change their minds? Maybe if Kurt saw that Blaine was listening to Kurt's ideas, and getting the other boys to listen to Kurt's ideas, then Kurt could think of them as the Warblers, again. And Blaine had an idea about that. Something small, something to test the waters, something that Kurt would appreciate.

There weren't as many papers as he had previously thought. He added a couple to the main stack on a side table. Yes. He would suggest some changes to the council, to the Warblers, and that would help Kurt feel like his voice was being heard (because the ideas Blaine would propose were actually Kurt's) and that the Warblers were more flexible than Kurt thought they were. Yes. That would work. Blaine squared the corners of the pile of papers he had collected, picked up his bag and swung out of the lounge towards dinner.

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><p>Kurt sashayed out of that school like he had just sung Defying Gravity for a crowd of millions. Blaine Anderson, shut that gaping trap of yours. Kurt Hummel has opinions, Kurt Hummel does not think you walk on water, Kurt Hummel is willing to tell you what's what. Kurt Hummel may still be in love with you, but he now knows that he definitely wants you naked, underneath him (or above, that would be really great too) and he also knows that you're ridiculous and sometimes you go with the flow too much. Snap out of it! Think about other people! Kurt Hummel has just reminded you that he demands to be recognized as an equal. Peace out, Bitches.<p>

If Pavarotti hadn't been asleep, he'd have agreed with Kurt's overall frame of mind.

Hudmel dinner went well, Carol chatting about work and Burt asking about school, and Finn studiously ignoring Kurt during dinner until Kurt said, "Finn, is something wrong?" and Finn blurted out, "Dude, Rachel told me not to tell you what we're doing for Regionals and if I look at you, and if you ask me how things are at school, I'll end up telling you! You've got like, mind powers, you'll find out and then it'll be another Jesse St. James moment, with eggs, and Agh!" He made some sort of cave man noise, grabbed the loaf of bread on the table, and dashed up to his room.

"Better not ask him anything, I guess," Burt said, looking amused.

"I didn't know it was such a tightly held secret." Kurt helped himself to more salad.

"He's been pretty excited this week."

"Well don't tell me anything else, lest I use my mind powers on you."

"Mum's the word."

After dinner Kurt texted Blaine because he was so used to it, and he wasn't mad at Blaine, anyway. Why shouldn't they text?

_Finn ran out of dinner tonight because he's worried he'll spill the beans on ND and regional's. I think Rachel put the fear of god into him. -K_

Not two minutes later his phone buzzed a response.

_This is big business! We don't want any hanky-panky secret trading! -B_

_ Lol. Not many secrets to trade. This song versus that song. -K_

_ Maybe. But I think you're right. I'm going to suggest to the council, tomorrow morning during free period, that we change some things up. -B_

_ Wow, glad to hear it. See you then. -K._

_ Night, Kurt. Sweet dreams! ;-) -B_

Kurt flushed and put his phone away. What was that? What was Blaine thinking? Was he-were they inadvertently talking about sexy dreams? Did Blaine know that Kurt had been having sexy thoughts about him? Probably not. Blaine wasn't a mind reader, and apparently pretty clueless to signals. Although Kurt wasn't an expert, he kind of figured he'd been sending 'I'm totally into you' signals since the first time they met, but Blaine hadn't seemed to notice. Even after Kurt had basically said, "I thought you were going to sing to me, I thought you were into me, I thought we were going to be in love forever," Blaine had just, what, let the whole thing, the whole idea drop? What the hell was that? And now he was sending winky emoticons and saying sweet dreams? _So Confusing._

Which was why he did what Kurt Hummel did best-pushed those thoughts to the side and continued on with his night uninterrupted.

But Parvotti died the next morning. They'd been singing together when his little body had just fallen, clunked, onto the cage floor. No warning, no excessive molting, no listlessness, no refusal to eat or sing. Just dead. Kurt cried, a little, but he didn't want to cry about it alone. This was something all the Warblers had to share, and if they didn't want to share it-he couldn't imagine they would be against doing something for an event like this.

So Kurt put on his best black suit, the one with skulls hanging off the button holes. He had bought it because it made his butt look fantastic but the occasion had now arisen to use it seriously. He found an old cassette he had, with backup to the perfect song for this occasion. Pavarotti meant something to all of them, he'd listened to all of them at one time or another. He was the embodiment of their song and Kurt wasn't going to let his death go without speaking about it. P!nk could wait, Maroon 5 could wait. This was important and Kurt would wrestle them all to the ground before they let this go by.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks so much to Melissams7924, for the correct canon transcript of Blaine and Kurt's "Blaine and the Pips" conversation from 'Original Song.' I really REALLY appreciate it! I'm glad you're enjoying reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Thanks so much for the reviews, the story alerts and the story favoriting! I really love getting those emails, letting me know that people actually read what I write. **

**Boyscanlikeboystoo: Thanks so much for the heads up on 'Burberry-esque'! Those small things have a way of becoming giant-they trip you up and then the movie in your head is ruined, a little. I have officially changed it. If you can think of any other snags, let me know! Thanks for reviewing! **

**GleekHolly97: Thanks so much for reviewing! I'm excited about Blackbird too; I'm having a lot of fun writing Blaine so cluelessly in love. **

**I don't own anything. **

**This is all in Blaine's POV. **

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><p>The next morning Blaine got to the cafeteria early. At first he thought maybe they'd canceled school because no one was around. Maybe there was some kind of delay and everyone was still sleeping in. But no, the cafeteria ladies told him, business as usual.<p>

So he ate his bagel and cream cheese, looking around at the other early raisers, tapping his toe on the floor and playing with his tie as he ate. Breakfast wasn't usually this boring. It wasn't usually this boring because usually Kurt ate with him. Kurt always had some dream, or wardrobe crisis, or something he'd seen online before he went to sleep to talk about. And that would remind Blaine of a dream, or an unfortunate sandal sock combo, or a funny YouTube video. In fact, generally breakfast wasn't long enough, but here was Blaine, watching other students mosey through the line, one by one, all looking tired, no one making much noise. The sun coming through the high glass windows fell in thick strips along the floor. Blaine tended to prefer afternoon sunlight.

When David and Wes strode in with their trays, David looking befuddled and Wes looking sharp, as always, Blaine waved them over.

"Blaine what are you doing up so early? Did you have a paper to write or something? Is there a world crisis?"

"I'm not up early. My alarm clock is set for six. I got up and came here."

"You get up at six every morning?" David looked at him like he had horns.

"Well yeah." Blaine shifted a little. "When Kurt first got here I wanted to walk him to his first class, make sure he got there ok. So I set my alarm clock earlier. And now-I like it. It's nice. Early morning sun and everything. Jump start on the day."

Wes and David rolled their eyes as they stuffed their faces full of ham egg and cheese sandwich.

"So where is he? Don't you guys have a love fest every morning?"

"I'm going to pretend you said 'ultra platonic, coincidental mealtime meeting between two peers .'" Blaine didn't even bother glaring, it was too early in the morning. "And no, he went home last night. Family thing. He'll be here today though."

"Yeah. Cause today is a Thursday." David said, mid-chew.

Blaine looked confused.

"Today is a school day, so yes, he'd be here." Wes helped.

"Oh." Blaine half rolled his eyes and turned to watch the entrance to the cafeteria. The table was silent for a minute.

David glanced at Wes with a small smile, and then said casually, "He's probably going to eat at home."

"Maybe he'll stop by for coffee," Blaine replied, almost without noticing he'd said anything. He blinked, then turned back to his friends. "What?"

"Nothing!" David said. "Wes was telling me about this new video game coming out-it's like Halo but instead of aliens you defeat-"

"Germs!" Wes flailed his arms about, "Whole armies of Germs! You're in the human body, right, and you've got your laser gun, and you have to work as a team-"

"With the white blood cells, and when you get to the highest level-"

"You have to defeat AIDS! I mean they say it's nearly impossible because the AIDS virus just keeps multiplying and multiplying-"

"But it has to be defeatable, right? I mean, it's a game, why shouldn't it-"

"Guys!" Blaine yelled. They stopped and looked at him. He wanted to say something about how video games and The Warblers weren't the only thing. He wanted to yell at them to take something seriously, for once. He wanted to tell them he wasn't interested in anything they had to say. But he couldn't do that; Wes and David were his closest friends, apart from Kurt. He didn't want to hurt their feelings.

They were still staring at him.

"What?" David said.

So he switched tactics. "Um. I was thinking. If I brought up some minor changes I want to propose to the Warblers today, during free period, would you guys back me up?"

"What kind of changes?" Wes was all business.

"Nothing big. Something to shake us up."

"The Warblers have always been great as they are, Blaine."

"I'm not saying we should paint ourselves green or anything. I'm just saying we might, you know, kick it up a notch."

"I don't know." Wes glanced at the clock and started to get out of his chair, David following.

"Just hear me out."

"Well not right now. I have to get going. But look, Blaine. You can have the floor during free period to suggest whatever it is. If it's a good idea I'll back it. If not-well, you'll have your answer soon enough."

Blaine nodded. "Thanks."

"See you."

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>Wes tapped his gavel lightly on the desk to call the meeting to order. "I hereby call this Warbler meeting to order. Before we start warming up, I believe Warbler Blaine has something to propose to the group."<p>

Jeff looked around. "Where's Kurt?"

Wes frowned. "We can't hold up the meeting for him."

"He must still be getting to school. I know because Blaine was eating breakfast all alone, which means Kurt went home last night," Thad said.

"I wasn't _all alone._ I was with Wes and David."

"For like the last five minutes. Before that you were just staring into space, looking lonely."

"I was not looking lonely."

"Yes, you were-"

"Gentlemen!" Wes tapped the gavel on the desk with a little more force. "We cannot wait for Kurt. Blaine, please. The floor is yours." Wes gestured out in front of him, and Blaine stood, breathing in once, deeply, and then straightening his Blazer.

"Fellow Warblers. I, as your lead singer, would like to ask for your consideration on a very important matter. I believe that part of a choral group's strength is its flexibility. We need to be able to change things up, go in another direction, find new pathways that will serve everyone in the group better. We need to be able to see where the wind will take us. That's why I am proposing we change our look for the upcoming Regional's; we need to be spruced up so that the competition doesn't take us for granted."

"Blaine, what are you saying?" Wes said, holding his gavel with white knuckles.

Blaine squared his shoulders. He was going to do this. Too late to back down now. "Fellow Warblers, Members of the Council, I'm suggesting we order new jackets with blue piping along the lapels, and maybe some new ties."

Pandemonium broke loose.

"I've had this jacket since primary school!"

"My father wore this jacket!"

"This uniform binds us together as a group, as a school! If we change we'll be thumbing our noses at all of that!"

"Blue doesn't look good with my skin tone! My girlfriend's coming to see us perform-"

"No one cares about your girlfriend, we need to stick to Tradition!"

"Trent, if you start singing Fiddler on the Roof-"

"They didn't change their clothes! They always wore their hats!"

Blaine stepped in, "Yeah, and the Nazi's relocated them, didn't they?"

Wes pounced. "The Nazi's didn't relocate Tevya, the Russians did, Blaine, obviously. What's wrong with you? I thought you knew every word of that musical."

"I do know every word, Kurt and I-"

"Ah ha!" Trent stabbed his finger at Blaine. "This is all _his_ idea! You're letting the new guy abscond you!"

"_Abscond_ me, what, no-"

David rolled his eyes, "Kurt's one of us, anyway, Trent, come on-"

Jeff banged a fist on the table. "The real issue is that Blaine wants us in some sort of _costume." _

Mac looked alarmed. "Guys, I don't think I've said this before, but I really don't do sequins."

"Sequins?" Jeff practically screeched.

"That's preposterous! Blaine, you can't think we'd go onstage in _sequins-"_

Blaine held up his hands. "Warblers, Warblers, I am _merely_ suggesting that instead of wearing blue ties with red piping, we wear jackets with red ties and blue piping for the competition!"

Wes banged his gavel a couple times, and Trent shouted, "This is a Kangaroo Court!"

Then the doors opened, and there stood Kurt.

_Kurt. _

Blaine felt suddenly buoyed up, like he'd spent the last evening and morning slogging through homework, but now someone had come to take him to a tropical island, or an amusement park; somewhere where he could just float, or run around in the sun and feel warm all the time.

Kurt moved his head just a little, but the light from the windows hit his eyes just right, and Blaine realized simultaneously that his eyes were gray (Blaine had never seen them gray), and wet looking, as if he'd been crying. The rest of his face was pulled into a slight frown, pale cheeks with splotches of uneven pink.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asked, immediately, a sinking feeling in his chest. Was it Kurt's father? Had there been an accident? Kurt looked ok, himself, except- that was when he noticed that Kurt wasn't wearing his Dalton Uniform. He was wearing a black suit with skulls hanging from the button holes. He looked..._good_. Blaine hated himself for a moment, for noticing.

"It's Pavarotti. Pavarotti's dead. I suspect a stroke." Kurt announced. The boys in the room stilled.

Blaine said, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

Kurt continued. "I know it's really stupid to be upset about a bird, but he-he inspired me with his optimism and his love of song. He was my friend. Now, I know today we need to practice doo-wopping behind Blaine as he sings every solo in the medley of P!nk songs, but I'd like to sing a song for Pavarotti today."

Joey stepped over to him and Kurt whipped a cassette out of one of his many pockets and tilted his chin up just a smidge. Joey placed the tape in the stereo and pressed play.

The room filled with the sound of an acoustic guitar-strange because normally the room was quiet, or filled only with male voices. But this as ok too.

Kurt began to sing, in a calm, low voice, not pushing it too hard. A couple of the boys harmonized with him in the background and Blaine followed along, still watching Kurt. Kurt was standing still, gazing out at nothing, and Blaine wanted to hold him so badly. Kurt held himself so straight, so even, his voice didn't quaver once and yet as the song continued Blaine could see Kurt's cheeks glistening more and more.

It was amazing. It was beautiful. When Kurt sang 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina,' Blaine had been a little embarrassed by the performance because you could see how hard Kurt wanted to fit in, how desperate he was to prove himself. But Kurt didn't need to prove himself. Right now Kurt was singing for himself, for Pavarotti, and he had allowed the Warblers to be there for it because Pavarotti was one of them, and they mourned for one of their own. Kurt put all the BS aside with just his presence. Kurt was commanding this time, this song-who cared about blue piping versus red piping? It was a stupid argument. This was what mattered. This. Kurt was what mattered.

_Kurt was what mattered. _

Kurt moved to the side of the room, further from Blaine on the couch, and Blaine felt his whole body, all the weird feelings from the last couple of weeks, swelling within him, shifting to align with Kurt. He wanted to touch, hold, and follow Kurt. All the clutter, all the annoyances from his mind dissipated; Kurt replaced every single one. Kurt was the one he wanted to turn to. Kurt kept him busy, kept him laughing, kept him thinking. And now-Blaine felt a rope from his heart attach to this man in front of him. Kurt was not a little boy to be protected from bullies. He was an adult, strong and proud and completely capable of doing whatever he wanted. This was the man Blaine had been looking for. This was the man Blaine wanted. Someone strong enough. Kurt was strong enough.

The song ended, and Blaine had forgotten the rest of the Warblers. He wiped his eyes.

Kurt said, "Thank you," And Blaine wanted to say, _No, Thank-_You_. You're the best of all of us. You're the best of me. I'm ridiculous, sometimes, but you rein me in. You let me be ridiculous, and then you catch me the other times. I'm safe with you. I trust you. I'd follow you anywhere. Let me follow you, please. Please._

Free period ended shortly thereafter, and Kurt said he had to get changed into his uniform. Without saying anything, Blaine put his arms around Kurt, and Kurt hugged him back, just for a moment. Blaine inhaled Kurt's sent, so familiar and yet new, too. How had he not noticed how beautiful Kurt was? How had he ignored the electricity practically radiating from him? He'd touched Kurt before without thinking, and now-Kurt disentangled himself and stepped out of the room.

Blaine wanted to say so much but now wasn't the time. He needed to-do something, prove something. He needed to be strong like Kurt was strong. He couldn't just come begging to Kurt. Not after the Gap attack thing. Kurt would be right to think he was fickle hearted. Although, truth be told, he didn't really _like_ Jeremiah. But Jeremiah was older and Blaine thought that meant Jeremiah was more mature, would stop him from doing something stupid, from being too outlandish. But no. And wasn't that the funny part? Kurt had said-Kurt had said! Kurt had said he thought Blaine was going to sing to _him_. He hadn't put a stop to the singing in public idea when he thought _he_ was going to be the recipient. Kurt _liked _that sort of thing! Blaine filed that away for future purposes. He wouldn't sing to him in public this time, because Kurt was real, a real human, and didn't deserve to be put on the spot, with thousands of people watching, like that. That sort of thing could come later. He needed Kurt to know this was real. He wanted Kurt to feel how strong, capable, and spotlight worthy he was. He wanted to watch Kurt, wanted other people to see how amazing Kurt was. That feeling of being loved from all sides-he wanted to give that to Kurt.

And actually...maybe he could.

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><p><strong>I know that was short, but I wanted to post ASAP for you! also I think it will work better if Kurt's POV is at the top of next chapter, and then Blaine's, etc. I'll hopefully get the next bit up soon! <strong>

**Thanks for reading! Leave reviews, Please! **

**P.S. Thanks again to Melissams7924, for her expert help with the canon dialogue in this chapter! I'm a sucker for canon as well. :-D **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry this took a couple days, I've been traveling and haven't had a lot of time to type! But now I'm back in Iowa and will be getting chapters up much more regularly. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! I really really appreciate them! **

**I have to say, I'm enjoying writing Blaine's point of View. I hope you enjoy reading it. For fun I added a section of Wes/David POV too, so I hope that doesn't throw you off too much. Let me know what you think! **

**Disclaimer: Ryan Murphy, you hold the deeds to this house, it's true, but you have to let people in so they can ooh and ahh at the decor, otherwise there's no point in you having a house to begin with. AKA I'm just visiting. I'll use the restroom and be on my way. Thanks! **

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><p>Kurt felt better after free period. He stood in the bathroom stall for a solid two minutes, though, staring at his Dalton blazer and cursing his skin for getting used to the satin lining of his black suit that morning, but he ultimately felt better. He felt like he'd relieved some sort of internal pressure. And the Warbler's hadn't seemed too upset about how he had burst in (on some kind of heated argument? Something about Nazis? Did he want to know? No. The answer was no) and disrupted their carefully scheduled rehearsal hour with an impromptu <em>non acapella <em>number. Now that Kurt was thinking about it: Kudos, Kurt! You single handedly destroyed probably a hundred years of tradition-all for a small, deceased bird!

Oh that was depressing. Impromptu, emotional releases like that would only be permitted in case of _death._ Oh Gods. Oh Elpheba. Oh, Holy Patti LaPone.

Kurt thunked his head against the stall door.

With a groan, Kurt finished tying his tie, washed his hands out of habit, and stepped back into the hallway. Blaine pushed himself off a wall opposite the bathroom. Kurt gave him a quizzical smile but fell into step beside him.

"You didn't have to wait for me."

"I know, but I wanted to make sure you were ok."

"I'm not going to break or anything."

"I am perfectly confident you won't break, don't worry."

"Uh, Thanks."

They came to the junction of two hall ways; Blaine would go down one and Kurt the other. Blaine turned to face Kurt and said, "No really. And that song-Blackbird-was really incredible. Really beautiful. Pavarotti couldn't have asked for a better song. Or singer."

Kurt blushed a little. Blaine sounded really sincere, and-calm? Kurt briefly sized him up. Blaine wasn't fidgeting, he wasn't rocking back and forth or humming. He was just standing there, looking at Kurt, straight in the eyes. Kurt blinked a couple times. "Thanks. I just-we used to do that a lot at New Directions, you know, break into song for whatever occasion arose. It was like our own personal soundtrack that we got to pick. "

"It sounds therapeutic." Blaine smiled, his gaze unwavering. Kurt had to look away lest he stop talking all together and just stare into Blaine's eyes for the rest of the day.

Kurt breathed out. "Yeah. It was." He tilted his head a little. "I think that's why I was so anxious to do a solo for the Warblers. And maybe one of the reasons why I was jealous-am jealous-of you. Because you get to sing and have that therapy all the time. And not just for me-I mean the other guys should have the chance to sing their feelings out too."

Blaine smiled a little. "I get that. I'm sorry that's how it comes off to you though-most of the songs the council picks for me to sing I have no connection to at all. Like, I think the week we were practicing 'Soul Sister'...let's just say, if _I_ had picked the song we would have been doing 'Be Our Guest', from Beauty and the Beast, and I would have twirled you around on stage and made Wes and David dress as gravy boats." Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and twirled him, as Kurt broke into giggles, before letting their hands fall back to their sides.

The two men stared at each other for a moment. Kurt, for once, did not feel like he was leering at his best friend. He felt completely at ease. Blaine's warm, hazel eyes _chocolate, warmth, want _ held his own, and their breaths intermingled softly between them.

But soon the mere fact that this silence and mutual gaze-fest _wasn't _ uncomfortable had Kurt stepping back, looking at the floor and the rest of the (now empty?) hall. "I should get to class."

"I'll see you at lunch. Yeah?" Blaine said.

"Yeah."

"Great." And then Blaine turned and walked down the hall, doing a hop step every so often until he turned the corner and Kurt couldn't see him anymore.

Now the question was, had he remembered to bring his bedazzler to school with him?

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><p>Half way through second period Blaine wanted to cry.<p>

He felt like his chest was tearing apart. It wasn't a painful sensation but it was a sensation none the less.

Or maybe he wanted to fly out the window. Or run up and down some stairs. He wanted-something. When Kurt was around, when they were walking down the hall this morning, Blaine felt like there was a magnet under his feet, keeping him steady, on course, on track. He felt like Kurt had another magnet inside of him, pulling not only Blaine's body closer but also Blain's life, worries, dreams and goals alongside. But now there were no magnets holding him anywhere and he thought he might fly into a thousand pieces. People were asking him questions and talking to him (Joey was talking to him at the same time as their professor. Who was he supposed to listen to? Where was the ground? Where was justice? What was going on? Why couldn't everyone just _shut up_?) He liked feeling sure and confident and whole. He liked that brief glimpse he got, this morning, of serenity. He was in the middle of chemistry and felt like he was being tossed around at sea. Kurt was a lighthouse, Kurt was a steady dock, Kurt was land.

After classes let out he practically ran across campus to get to Kurt so they could walk to the cafeteria together. Kurt didn't seem that surprised to see him-Blaine was surprised he was here, and had run like a maniac. But actually, the thought occurred to Blaine, he met Kurt _every day_ before going to lunch. Did he run like a maniac _every day?_ No, surely not. And yet Kurt didn't even look up from his book where he was trying to scratch some sort of grime off the cover, before he said, "Hey Blaine."

"How'd you know it was me?" Blaine said, out of breath.

"It's always you." Kurt looked up into Blaine's eyes.

_Kurt's not a lighthouse. He's a freaking Inter-galactic Space Beacon. _

_xxxxx_

At lunch Wes and David sat at their table but they might as well not have.

"So are we still on for Starship tonight?" Kurt asked.

"Of course. Unless you have homework. I don't want to make you stay up too late."

The line of Kurt's body caught the light from the windows, highlighting him just a little."No, that Thoreau paper is over with, Thank Goodness. Even if that man _were_ gay I wouldn't be interested in him. He's more maintenance than I am."

Blaine laughed. His whole chest expanded, like he was finally getting enough air. "You're not such high maintenance," Blaine said, brushing a thumb over the back of Kurt's hand. He couldn't help it, he wanted to be closer. He could see, and breathe and hear so much clearer than normal. He wanted more of it, until he drowned in clarity. "Maybe you'd like a guy who works with his hands, and lives in the woods."

"No thank you. I like a guy who-"Kurt paused, and his eyes flickered down the table. "Well just suffice it to say that I like a guy who doesn't go into a shirt store and demand they create a whole new clothing style just for him. That's _my _job, and I do it so much more suavely."

Blaine imagined it, Kurt going into a store and demanding they make a specific shirt for him. The poor sales lady. "The shirts you would demand would either be completely impractical for ninety nine percent of the population-"

Kurt arched an eye brow at him. "Blaine I don't _only_ appreciate high fashion. I know how to make things from Kohl's work. For instance, if you'd let me dress _you_..."

Blaine wrenched his eyes away from Kurt's, feeling his blood rush south and flooding his cheeks at the same time. It was an interesting sensation. Blaine tried to keep his voice steady as he said, "You could dress me, if you wanted." He flickered a glance at Kurt. He didn't want to freak Kurt out-maybe Kurt didn't like him like that. On Valentine's day Kurt had said he thought Blaine was going to ask him out but that didn't mean Kurt was pining over him or anything. Kurt had probably thought, 'Oh, Blaine's going to sing to someone? I bet it's me; after all, Blaine walks me to class _every morning_ and walks me to lunch _every day_ and _every afternoon _we do homework together, and Blaine buys me coffee _almost all the time, _and he touches me _all the time_ and-'

Oh shoot. Well ok, maybe there was a reason Kurt thought Blaine was going to sing to him on Valentine's Day. Well, he had screwed_ that_ up.

Kurt leaned back a little, a little flushed, maybe, but not freaked out at all. "Really? What happened to Mr. I-love-my-blazers? Mr. Red-and-Blue-looks-good-on-me? Mr.-"

"Ok Ok, So my fashion is a little private schoolish. If you notice, we go to a private school. I don't exactly have a lot of opportunities to pull out my skinny jeans."

Kurt coughed up a strawberry. "You have skinny jeans?"

Blaine chewed on his bottom lip a little. "Maybe. In the back of my closet."

Kurt sat up and started waving his hands around wildly. "Oh my god, Blaine, why didn't you TELL me! I can do amazing things with skinny jeans! Even if you wanted to wear your Dalton sweater on top of them-actually never mind. Pretend I didn't say anything. I don't want you to get any ideas." Kurt's eyes scanned over Blaine once, twice, a third time.

Blaine blushed a little. "Too late, ideas have been gotten. I'm going to put my Dalton sweater on over my skinny jeans, with the cowboy boots my uncle randomly got me last Christmas. Maybe I'll add suspenders."

Kurt's eyebrows lifted and his lips pursed. _Kurt's Lips_. "Actually that sounds kind of hot if you get rid of the sweater."

Blaine had a quick flash of Kurt, in his room, helping Blaine take his sweater off and then throwing it on the floor, Kurt's hands on his bare chest. _By the First Egg, you are doomed. Don't say anything raunchy. Don't say anything raunchy. Kurt likes romance. Kurt has expanded his repertoire. Don't say anything-_ "You want me bare chested?" _Shards!_

Kurt's eyes widened. "No! I mean. That's not what I meant. I meant, you know, a simple white tee shirt."

Had they always talked like this? This was so much _fun_. "I'm hurt that you don't want me bare chested."

Kurt threw up his hands. "Ugh. Fine. Blaine, if you want to be bare chested, go for it. I will not stop you. I might even ogle you just so you can feel as silly as possible."

_Oh, I don't know if silly is quite the emotion I'd experience..._ Blaine smirked. "It's either bare chested or Dalton sweatered. Take your pick."

Kurt crossed his arms. "This is unfair. The range of appropriate tops that would work with the ensemble you've just described are almost limitless."

Blaine laughed. "What's unfair is how you interrupted me a couple minutes ago."

"I didn't. What?"

"I was _saying,_ if you would allow me to _finish_-"

"Oh, I'll let you finish." Kurt said, smiling a little.

_Holy Moses, I'm doomed._ Blaine closed his eyes, briefly. "I was _saying_ that any shirt you would design would either be highly impractical, OR it would be the most comfortable, sexiest shirt ever known to man. Angel's wings would feel like a burlap sack in comparison."

Kurt looked a little offended. "Are you making fun of me?"

Blaine shook his head, brows furrowed a little. "I wouldn't make fun of something you do extraordinarily well." He placed his hand on Kurt's, again, and then paused, their eyes locked for a moment. Kurt smiled before looking away and withdrawing his hand, and Blaine leaned back.

"Oh well. You're right. But you've failed to point out the third, correct option in this little scenario."

"Enlighten me." Blaine turned his body a little more towards Kurt.

"According to your Yoda wisdom, either the shirt I create is highly impractical, or it's softer than angel wings. Option _three_, the correct option, is that it's actually very sexy, soft, comfortable and still in keeping with the newest trends-even if that means it looks a little silly, it'll still feel good."

Blaine looked right into Kurt's eyes. _Sea green. Giant Magnet. Intergalactic beacon. _"Sometimes silliness is good."

"I...I agree," Kurt breathed his response. Blaine smiled a little. Oh, this was so nice. He could just stare at Kurt, in Kurt's eyes, all day. Why were they so far away from each other? What had they been talking about? More importantly, why were they so far away from each other?

"So Kurt! How was dinner with the folks last night?" David said.

David! Wes! The world! Blaine turned to glare across the table. Wes smirked.

Kurt cleared his throat. "It was fine."

Blaine took a sip of coffee. He was being very rude, talking only to Kurt and not letting Wes and David into the conversation. But honestly, he didn't want to talk to anyone _but_ Kurt. "Finn freaked out because he was worried he'd let slip what New Directions are doing for regional's." Ha ha! He knew all about dinner last night with Kurt's family because Kurt had texted him about it! He was in the know! He knew all about Kurt's family. He had even spoken one on one with Kurt's dad!

Oh Shit. Right. The very awkward, horrible decision of a talk with Kurt's Dad. Right. Right.

Kurt nodded. "Yup. Accused me of mind powers and then stole the loaf of bread right off the table."

"Rachel put the fear of god in him," Blaine said, casually, looking decidedly _not _at Kurt.

"As usual." Kurt took a bite of salad.

This set up was too perfect. "She wasn't so bad."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Oh my god don't get me started."

"Good kisser," Blaine continued.

"I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I'm so glad you're gay. So glad you're gay."

"Just out of curiosity, what would have happened if I'd been straight?" Blaine was still trying to look at Wes and David across the table, to make it seem like the conversation was going on between more than two people.

But he had to look at Kurt when Kurt said, "My world would have crumbled around me, that's what."

Blaine frowned, and tried to read the expression on Kurt's face. "Really?"

Kurt was picking at some lint on his pants. "Well, yeah. I mean, you-you helped me with-with stuff at McKinley, and I trust you and for the whole thing to turn out to be-and that it was me by myself, again... for you to be straight, like Finn-"

Blaine lifted a hand. "Hold up. Even if I was straight I wouldn't be straight like _Finn._ There are many ways to be straight."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I mean, the situation would have been like the one with Finn, and I didn't want to do that over again." The situation with Finn. Kurt and he had talked about Finn, about how Kurt had had a crush, and Finn had freaked out, etc. But Kurt wasn't like, confessing to being in love with Blaine right here, right now, so Blaine was drawing a blank.

"What was the situation with Finn?"

Kurt crossed his legs and let his eyes wander up to the ceiling. "Oh, you know. He was straight. And nice to me, but then not nice. And straight."

Blaine's face fell at the look on Kurt's face (that he suspected Kurt was trying to downplay). "I'll always be nice to you," he whispered. _Understatement of Century._

Kurt looked back down at the table. "I know."

Blaine leaned an elbow on the table, moving towards Kurt a little bit. "And, for the record, I'm glad I'm gay too. And I'm glad you're gay."

Kurt frowned. "There wasn't ever really a question about me, though."

"Still-I'm glad that the spy McKinley sent over was someone Out, and proud, and excited to be exactly who he was. You're really amazing, Kurt. I've never met anyone like you." _Shut up shut up shut up-it'll freak him out if you compliment him too much without knowing why, and you are NOT confessing to undying love with Wes and David watching. Oh God, Wes and David._ He waited for the small nod from Kurt, and then he pulled back and inhaled a big breath. "So! Wes! David! We're doing Misery and Raise Your Glass-what song have you chosen for the second number?"

Wes paused, and then moved to stand up. Why was he always doing that? "Blaine, how kind of you to ask. I would go into that topic of conversation with you, but unfortunately lunch is almost over. We can talk about it at practice this afternoon, if you want."

"Oh, sure. I didn't realize..."

"Blaine stop gaping like a fish. I'll walk you to class." Kurt loaded their two trays together and headed towards the trash can.

Blaine's attention immediately whipped back to Kurt, and stayed there. "You'll walk _me_ to class? Don't I usually walk you?"

"Yes. That's why we're switching today. It's not fair you always get to be the gentleman."

"I like being the gentleman."

"So do I."

"We could both be the gentleman."

As they continued down the hall Blaine decided that there was no way he was going to screw _this_ up.

* * *

><p>Wes and David watched the two exit the cafeteria.<p>

"Well now they REALLY need to get a room."

"This is the big leagues, true."

"You know, Wes, I think Blaine may have actually figured out he's been in love with our newest counter-tenor all this time."

"I totally called it. The look on his face while Kurt was singing this morning was like, epic."

"I can't believe you didn't like, nudge me and point."

"That would have ruined the mood."

"I guess. But at least then I wouldn't have been blindsided; I would have gone into this lunch knowing what would happen." David heaved a sigh.

Wes said, "I just don't think they're suited for social interactions with anyone but each other, at the moment."

"Agreed."

"What do you want to bet that Blaine suggests he and Kurt do a duet today at practice? Or that Kurt help him with a prototype for new blazers? Or that Kurt help Blaine expand his range?"

"There's no use betting-it'll happen."

"True."

"I just hope it happens sooner rather than later, because I can honestly NOT stand another lunch like that again."

"It was funny."

"It was uncomfortable. Especially when Blaine said, 'sometimes silliness is good.'"

"I was trying to forget that incredible amount of goo."

"Wes," David turned to his friend, "you need to let go. Sometimes silliness is good."

"Oh Blaine, I agree! I agree! Kiss me now! -oh god, don't actually kiss me."

"I wasn't going to. But I have to say, I've never met anyone like you, you're so strong and proud and beautiful and I'm just glad you're gay, like me, so we can be gay together."

"Do you really meant that? You want to be gay together?"

"Oh Kurt, your glaz eyes are sparkling from the cafeteria lights. Yes, I want to be gay, with you, together, with both of us bare chested and glistening from a thousand unshed tears."

"Oh Blaine!" Wes clasped his hands to his heart and threw his head back.

"Here, wait." David whipped out his phone and sent out a mass Warbler text, after carefully omitting Kurt and Blaine's names from the list.

_B has finally seen K's light. Team Klaine is unofficially a go, so be prepared for mushy looks, wistful sighs and heaving bosoms at practice. -W+D_

They laughed all the way to class.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, at practice, Kurt caught both Wes, David, and several other Warblers giving him weird looks. Did they mind that he sang, impromptu, this morning? When Joey saw him in English, after lunch, he turned bright red, turned a fit of laughter into a rather unbelievable cough, and then hid behind a book. When he saw Marc in the corridor, Marc smiled, wiggled his eyebrows up and down, and then jabbed an elbow into his side as they passed each other, saying, "Get it, Hummel!" The shove didn't hurt, and it seemed like Marc was congratulating him for something, but it was weird anyway. And then at practice, when he came in and Blaine gave him, frankly, a dazzling smile as he scooted over on the couch to make room for Kurt by the armrest, Kurt swore several Warbler's immediately turned to their neighbors and started talking very loudly, but every once in a while glancing over at him and Blaine.<p>

Kurt was a little freaked out. Were they going to expel him from the Warbler's for breaking the rules? No one seemed to mind this morning. What the hell was going on? Blaine didn't seem to notice anything, he was smiling and laughing just like he had been this afternoon. Lunch had been, quite frankly, thrilling. It had been so easy and wonderful. Sometimes he felt as though Blaine's attention was going in a million other directions, and Blaine only paid attention to him because he was the token gay kid that Blaine was mentoring this week. Admittedly, he had felt like that mostly in the beginning of his stint at Dalton, not so much lately, but the idea that that feeling could happen again was always there. Except at lunch today, Blaine had actually _scowled_ at David when David had asked about his family dinner the night before, and then promptly ignored the other guys' existence until the end of lunch. _Maybe your whole 'remind Blaine that you have opinions and are a force to be reckoned with' plan worked. Maybe he's seeing you as an equal, now. Maybe. _Kurt hid a smile and pretended to listen to the meeting that had just come to order. Today they would be discussing options for their second song, and going over 'Raise Your Glass' to make sure the choreography was working.

Kurt tuned out, a little, trying to think where he'd put his bedazzeler for Pavarotti's coffin. Had he brought his glue gun? Had he packed it or had he put it in the upstairs closet? Oh this was going to bother him until he got the chance to rummage under his bed. There was, he thought, a forty percent chance it was in the upstairs closet, two hours away in Lima. Ugh, Kurt did not want to drive there and back for a bedazzler. Maybe one of the other boys would have something-uh, no. None of the other boys would have a bead kit like he had a bead kit; that would be a safe argument.

Kurt tuned in when Thad said, "You know, I think Blaine's version of the song is actually better than the original."

"But it's not in his natural key," David retorted. Kurt looked over at Blaine, who just looked bored.

"How dare you?" Trent exclaimed.

And then Blaine spoke up, raising his hands just a little. "Enough, I'm tired of this."

"I agree," said Thad. "I think we should just let you pick the song that you want to sing." Oh my god, were they all gay for Blaine? Did Blaine have a freaking love spell out on these guys? _He doesn't walk on water, people! Just because you want to kiss his honey toned skin and run your fingers through his ungelled hair doesn't mean you have to bow down before him! _

But Blaine continued. "No, I'm tired of the Warblers being all about me. Dave, please make sure everything I'm about to say goes down in the official minutes." A hush went over the other boys. Blaine was going to say something big, and Kurt was glad he'd stopped thinking about his Bedazzler. Blaine paused, and then said, "We are going to lose at regional's." Someone, probably Trent, made an noise of outrage. "I am incredibly grateful for the belief you've all given me as a junior member to lead you all in these wonderful songs this year, but from what Kurt has told me about New Directions," he glanced at Kurt, "I just know I can't beat them on my own. Which is why I propose that we rearrange our eleven o'clock number and turn it into a duet to showcase other talent in this group." Kurt looked at Blaine in suprise. A duet? Well, good. Yes. Obviously Blaine had actually listened to him the other day. Wow. Kurt smiled, hesitantly.

David said, "Why don't we just play it on kazoo?" But Kurt saw David smirk directly after, and kick Wes under the table.

"Point of order, point of order," Blaine said, in a tone Kurt thought Blaine was trying to use to speak to the civilized and cultured part of a raging hyena brain. "Now, we all lost one of our own this week." Oh, good one, play to their moral and emotional side. "Pavarotti's voice was silenced by death and I don't want to silence anyone else's voice in this group. I think Pavarotti would roll over in his tiny, tiny little grave."

"The placement of which has yet to be determined." Kurt said, in what he hoped was a sad enough voice.

David kicked Wes under the table again, and Wes said, "All right, a vote. Who's in favor of Warbler Blaine's proposal for a duo lead at regional's?"

All the hands in the room went up, and Kurt decided that yes, this pretty much confirms his everyone-has-the-hotts-for-Blaine-and-would-follow-him-over-a-cliff-if-possible theory.

Kurt leaned forward. No matter why it happened, he was going to take advantage of this turn of events. "Put my name on that audition list."

But Blaine interjected. "No, no auditions." What? He continued. "I want to sing the duet...with Kurt."

Kurt gaped for a few moments. _What? What's he doing? What's he playing at? What is this? _"That's ridiculous. I mean, there are so many great voices. I mean, everyone deserves a shot at that honor." _Don't agree with me, Don't agree with me. Agree with me. Don't agree with me. _

"All in favor of Kurt being my duet partner at regional's?" Blaine was looking at Kurt with a slight smile as every hand in the room went up, once again, and as Kurt looked around at all the sort of creepy, knowing smiles that the other Warbler's were shooting at him, he wasn't sure what he had actually signed up for.

Wes struck the gavel on the desk. "Decided." Everyone clapped, Blaine looking at him steadily, the way he had this morning, and again at lunch. Kurt forgot the other guys in the room as Blaine's gaze enveloped him. If everyone had the hotts for Blaine, he was obviously the president of that club.

Thad slapped Kurt on the back. "Congratulations, Kurt," he said.

Wes struck the gavel once again. "Alright, you two, I would like song options presented to me this afternoon, since both of you board. In keeping with the rest of the numbers we've chosen, it should probably be something relatively current, and meant for radio play."

David followed up. "No Broadway, in other words."

Wes nodded. "It's not that Broadway isn't great, but I think a more contemporary piece would help keep the flow of our set going in the right direction."

"And maybe something slower. Both Misery and Raise Your Glass are faster and more upbeat, so it would be good to mix it up with something slower."

"That's fine," Blaine said. "That's great. I have a couple ideas."

"Excellent. We'll expect to hear from you later today, then. We'll practice the number tomorrow during free period and after school. We're cutting it close, guys, but I think this could work."

"All right!" David stood up. "Let's get into our formations for Raise Your Glass. I don't know if those three lines are going to work unless everyone is actually counting beats in their heads so we all move at the same time."

"Agreed. We need this to be sharp, guys! Sharp!" Wes banged his gavel once again, and Kurt caught Blaine's eyes as they stood up. _Chocolate, Warmth, Want, Safe. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh man I had so much fun writing this chapter. I basically spent all day on it. Lesson planning what? Syllabus writing, What? Who needs that? I just need some awesome Klaine fluff. **

**Thanks again to Melissams7924, who provided all the canon conversation! **

**Next up: "you move me, Kurt," and then a lot of kissage. If I get bold I may change the rating to M (that means smut!). Thoughts? **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, Thank you for all the lovely reviews! They've been so wonderful for my self esteem! **

**Here's the last chapter-I have an epilogue going, and I may add on some extra scenes that didn't make it into this story pace. As I was writing this I realized I could only include certain things, even though I know what happens, say, directly after this chapter. It just made sense to end things here (with an epilogue). I know I hinted at smut, but it also didn't really fit in. So I'll add a couple 'deleted scenes' with ALL OF THAT. **

**Thanks so much for reading, it's been (and is still) a lot of fun!**

**Disclaimer: ""**

* * *

><p>Kurt kept sneaking him furtive glances during practice. Confused glances. Glances that Blaine was happy to respond to with a smile, and that made Kurt more confused.<p>

Blaine had figured a couple things out during afternoon classes. Either Kurt didn't like him like that and they would still be friends, or Kurt _did_ like him like that and they could be more then friends. They could hold hands. They could snuggle together. They could go on ice skating dates and he could kiss Kurt whenever he wanted. He wouldn't have to worry if someone else was hitting on Kurt or not. He wouldn't have to tamp down this feeling of needing to be close together.

If the former was the case, then even after Blaine proposed the idea of a duet, and if it became clear (somehow) that Kurt was _not_ interested in him, Blaine could still say that he wanted Kurt to have his undoubtedly overdue chance in the spotlight, which was true. Even if Kurt didn't want to be boyfriends, he still deserved a place in the spotlight. He still deserved that feeling of surround sound applause. However, if Kurt _did _like Blaine like that, Blaine could say-what? I've fallen madly in love with you? No, that was too...weird. Too much like a proclamation to the masses. Besides, what if this wasn't love? It felt like love. What if this was like some hormonal teenage thing? What if this was a fluke? _This isn't a fluke_. He should probably hammer this down. So Blaine made a list. Normally he was not a list maker, but today's list wasn't so regimented, nor did he write it down. In his head, it looked something like this:

**Kurt is now:**

my own personal space beacon/magnet/lighthouse.

Really sexy. For instance: Kurt's skin, lips (oh god, kurt's _lips_), arms (lean and muscular, like a suprise in your cereal-you don't think they're there under the shirt but then WHAM! sexy arms), kurt's butt (yes. Just yes.), Kurt's height, and those sexy jokes Kurt makes (like, "Oh, I'll let you finish," from lunch-what was THAT?).

**Kurt has always been:**

the person I want to talk to about everything.

The person who likes the same things I like.

The person who makes me laugh the hardest.

The person who I can make laugh.

The person I worry about the most.

The person I don't worry about because I know that whatever choices he makes will be the right ones.

Someone who always knows the right answer.

Someone who calls me on my crap.

Someone who doesn't think I walk on water!

more confident than me.

someone who gets me

someone I can watch Wicked with! And RENT and Avenue Q and Urinetown and Les Mis and Anything Goes and Chicago and The Brave Little Toaster!

someone who knows how I feel all the time without me having to explain it.

The person I would call if I needed help, who I would want rushing to my side in desperate situations.

The person I sometimes fantasize about rushing to help in desperate situations.

**I want Kurt Hummel to:**

cuddle with me.

tell me my mouth isn't too big

come with me to college.

College was a question that...after a half a minute, Blaine decided he would think about college _later._ As in - many years in the future, later. Solid Plan, Anderson, Solid Plan.

Blaine reviewed his list instead of conjugating "etre" in French class. Basically the only difference now was he thought Kurt was sexy, and a space beacon. But actually he had sort of thought Kurt was sexy before this, hadn't he? Yes, there was that one time-several times, come to think of it - Yes he _had_ been checking out Kurt's ass. At the time he had chalked it down to worrying about what his own ass might look like, because Kurt's was undoubtedly really good looking, perfectly round but not too prominent... Blaine could see that he had been checking it out. Ok, so there was that. Also there was that feeling that Kurt had like, changed the direction he was looking in. Kurt had shifted all of Blaine's parameters. Before Blackbird, Blaine felt like a bumper car let loose on the world, and watch out! The steering wheel on that thing wasn't so dependable. But this morning, after Blackbird, Blaine had started feeling like he was a train on a track, going around the whole world, seeing all the sights and picking up passengers and just flowing along really smoothly and evenly. So nice.

Ultimately Blaine had no idea what he would say to Kurt. He had figured out how he felt about the whole situation, more or less, metaphorically, but not what to say.

So he took it one step at a time. Practice this afternoon had gone well, really well, They'd gotten their lines for Raise Your Glass figured out, and Blaine had miraculously gotten the council to agree to a duet. He had shamelessly leaned on their emotions about Pavarotti, and pleaded to their sense of fairness, and then walloped them with a dose of competitiveness. It was weird because although David put up a token of resistance, and there were some grumblings, everyone had seemed to expect it. And there was absolutely no resistance at all to Kurt as his partner.

Blaine had been of two minds about that. Obviously he'd done an incredible job this morning, with Blackbird. The Warbler's would realize that and reward it. On the other hand, Kurt was relatively new, the last solo he'd done was a disaster, and the council tended to take their lead singer selections very seriously, considering not only for talent, but also weighing in junior or senior class standing, academic placement, and potential for future lead opportunities.

But if Kurt was ever going to get a solo, today probably would have been the best day to ask for it, with Blackbird fresh in their minds and Regional's so close at hand that auditions couldn't, reasonably, be undertaken.

The look on Kurt's face as he suggested a duet - awe and happiness and fear and confusion and something like hope put on hold - was worth it. So so very very worth it.

So as practice closed, and Wes spoke to the basses before letting everyone go, Blaine leaned over to Kurt _Kurt's smell Kurt's warmth _to whisper in his ear, "Hey Kurt, before they mob you with congratulations - after practice I'm going to see if I can narrow down song selections. I have a couple in mind. Do you have any you want me to show to Wes and David?"

"I don't think so? I mean, I could fill your inbox with Broadway, or Lady Gaga, but I tend to change the station when a slow song comes on. Not my forte."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, you go ahead, I'm sure whatever you pick'll be great. Plus, I have something I need to get started on."

"Ok. Meet me back here in like, an hour?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Wes clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention. "All right! That's it for today; Congratulations once again to Kurt; Guys I expect that song selection given to me _this afternoon_. We'll practice back up for the new song tomorrow during free period, after school AND during lunch," everyone groaned. "Don't give me that! This is serious! If we want to beat New Directions we have to step it up! Those guys have been practicing round the clock for the past two weeks! They're on an IV drip at this point! They don't have to- Kurt, is there something you'd like to say?"

Kurt swallowed a cough. "Uh, No. No. You're right. Mr. Shue used to make us do a hundred pushups _before_ we got to practice, so that we'd have to learn all our choreography while we were permanently exhausted."

Wes pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god. I didn't expect that. Ok. Ok. Guys, I can't stress enough how much I need you to focus for the next couple days. We _need to get to Nationals_; it will look really good on all of our college apps. So Marc! For God's sake no last minute trips over to St. Lillian's tonight or tomorrow. Jeff, please leave off the dying of your hair until Sunday. Then you can do it green for all I care. David?"

"Yes Wes."

"David, call your girlfriend, have her forgive you, and then ask her to drive over with some sort of baked good."

"Can do, Can do."

"Hey Wes?" Marc waved his hand.

"Yes, Marc."

"If I'm not allowed to sneak over there, can I have some of them sneak over here? I mean, if Jenny's going to be coming over anyway-"

"No, No No No. I want you focused, Marc, Focused!"

"But that _helps_ me focus. I mean, we can't all be gay and get it on in our dorms, like some people-"

There was a general outcry. "Dude, Shut up!" "God Marc, you're so insensitive." "Man, Not cool!" and "They're right _here._"

"Oh come on, guys, like you haven't been thinking about how much easier it would be-" Marc continued.

Wes raised his voice to a desperate squeal. "Great! Guys I think we're going to have an awesome set list for this Saturday!" Then he whipped his gavel out and banged it on the nearest wooden surface, which happened to be a chair leg. "Meeting adjourned!"

Blaine stepped out of formation to grab his bag off the couch, but as soon as he made it into the hallway he was somehow surrounded by Warblers.

Joey slapped him on the back. "Sorry about Marc, you know he's a total horn dog. He didn't mean anything."

"Yeah I know."

"On the other hand, he has a point. You know. About dorm rooms."

"Um, I guess?"

"Just saying, Blaine, Just saying. Good luck, man."

"Thanks, I think." Joey slapped him on the back once more and then left, but Blaine didn't move because Marc and Ben came out of the lounge at that point and both of them high fived him at the same time. Marc even shouted, "Get it, Anderson!" as he walked by.

And then Trent showed up and shook Blaine's hand. "I'm really happy for you, I really am."

But he didn't let Blaine say anything else before he scurried off too, and then there was Jeff, who didn't high five or back slap but just paused, as he walked by, shook the hair off his forehead and said, "Just remember, Kurt's always right." Then Jeff _winked._

Oh Dear Giles, did everyone know that Kurt was Blaine's lighthouse?

Kurt came out, next, but didn't stop, just shouted, "See you in an hour!"

"Ok!" Blaine tried to wave, but Kurt was gone.

"Soo. Blaine. A duet with Kurt, huh?" Thad wrapped an arm around Blaine's shoulders and neck and started walking the two of them towards the dorms.

"Yeah. He was really great this morning, with Blackbird. He deserves more time in the spotlight." Blaine smiled in spite of himself.

Thad kept his eyes straight in front of him. "Oh definitely. Definitely. No doubt about it."

"Everyone's cool with that, right? I mean I know we took a vote, but-"

"Blaine! Relax. We all like Kurt. We all like you. You guys'll be great together."

"Yeah, He and I have sung a couple times together before and our voices really match up well."

"You've been together before?" Thad looked surprised. "We didn't know about that."

"Um, yeah. I asked him to help me practice a song I had to sing for the King's Island Christmas special, and we've sung in the car together a bunch of times." Talking about Kurt was good. It meant that even if Kurt wasn't _here_, he was still sort of _here_ and that trackless, lost at sea feeling from earlier wasn't as strong.

Thad said, "In the car? Kinky."

Kinky? "Uh, I think that's pretty normal. Don't you ever sing in the car?"

Thad snorted. "Who hasn't?"

Blaine readjusted his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

"Of course it is. Totally normal to do it in a car. Tell me, where else have you practiced?"

"Um, we've sung a couple times in Kurt's room, and my room, and we did Baby It's Cold Outside here in the lounge, and-"

Thad looked at Blaine, eyes wide. "In the lounge?" Then he started laughing. "Well don't tell Wes about that, he'd have an aneurysm."

"Thad, what are you talking about? Kurt and I were just singing. I don't think Wes would mind that at all."

Thad looked thoughtful. "Maybe you're right. Wes has always prided himself on being very progressive."

"No he hasn't-Thad, I don't know what sort of sexual innuendo you're trying to draw here, but Kurt and I were just singing. I swear on Betty Crocker's brownies that we were just singing. That's all we've ever done."

Thad looked at Blaine with wide eyes. "Of course, Blaine. You guys are just friends. What, were you thinking 'doing a duet' was _code_ for something?"

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't thinking that, _you _were."

"Dude. Doing a duet is just doing a duet. You gotta relax, man." He gripped Blaine's neck and drew their heads together a little. "It's ok, Blaine, it's ok. We know you don't think of Kurt that way; you've said it like, a hundred times. You gotta stop being so defensive, or we'll think you're covering up your true feelings." He smiled, let go of Blaine, and took a few steps back. "For the duet you and Kurt are going to sing, just my advice, don't do anything too mushy or romantic. You know, it might give people the wrong idea." He grinned once more and turned around, jogging down the stairs and back towards the main part of the school.

Not too mushy or romantic, huh? Blaine let himself into his dorm room, pausing just a moment to breathe in the quiet, before he flipped open his laptop and spent the next couple minutes scrolling through his playlist. The song Kurt and he sung had to mean _something, _even if it wasn't mushy or romantic_._ He skimmed down his list of possible Warbler tunes. He had so many top forty hits, where was his musical diversity? None of those songs meant anything. They were written to sell to the masses; not because they came from places of real emotions. Sure they were great to dance to, but that was about it. He had a couple things Kurt had burned for him, and one mix CD from his sister. It would have to be one of those. He'd been half thinking about suggesting those songs to Wes anyway.

He ended up with two songs (one an obvious love song, and one was a breakup song that resonated with him anyway) and decided to ask David and Wes to choose between them. He loaded his ipod, flipped his laptop closed, and walked down the hall.

"Blaine, good you're on time. Where's Kurt?" Wes opened his dorm door to Blaine's knock, and Blaine could see David walking back and forth between the beds, on the phone, hands waving wildly.

Wes waved Blaine into the room and Blaine shut the door before leaning against Wes's desk. "He had something to do. I'm not sure-he said whatever I picked was fine with him."

"Oh, ok. What have you got?"

"Two songs, I wasn't sure which one would be better. 'Such Great Heights' By Iron and Wine or 'Candles' by Hey Monday. Here, listen." Blaine pulled out his ipod and waited while Wes listened to both songs.

"Huh. Good choices. How about we go with Candles? It has a stronger chorus, and I think the backups would be easier to arrange."

"Sure, sure. Great. I'll go tell Kurt and we'll have something to show you by tomorrow. Do you need to keep my ipod?"

"No, I'll get it from YouTube or something. Thanks, though."

"Sure, no problem." Blaine stuffed his ipod into his pocket and opened the door again.

"Hey Blaine?" Wes said.

"Yeah?"

"You might want to tell Kurt about the emotion you want to convey while singing this song. I mean, you don't want him onstage looking confused."

Blaine frowned a little before answering. "Um. No, you're-you're right, Wes. I. I'll. We'll talk about it."

"Great. See you later." Wes turned back to his computer.

"Right. See you."

Yup, that confirmed it. _Everyone _knew.

* * *

><p>Wes's words, Thad's words, the whole day was echoing in his head, almost painfully. This was all going much too fast. He didn't need to tell Kurt about his new found feelings right now. They could wait until after regional's, surely.<p>

But when Blaine saw Kurt hunched over something, boxes and beads spread out in front of him, his concentration total, Blaine felt that tugging forward that he'd had all day. That overwhelming need to be near Kurt all the time returned full force. He couldn't live like this; seeing Kurt, wanting to be near Kurt, and not able to. No, Kurt was drawing him in and the result was pre-determined.

Blaine stepped forward, a little hesitant. "What's that?"

Kurt responded without looking up. "I'm decorating Pavarotti's casket," he said.

_Decorating Pavarotti's Casket. Ok._ "Well, finish up. I have the perfect song for our number. I think we should practice."

Kurt finally set his attention on Blaine, and settled back a little in his chair. "Do tell."

Blaine looked at Kurt, his clear blue _blue in this light_ eyes. "'Candles' by Hey Monday."

Kurt's eyebrows rose just a little. "I'm impressed. You're usually so top 40."

Blaine looked at the floor. He should just come out and _say _it! What was wrong with him? Hedging around the real issue. "Well, I just wanted something a little more...emotional." Blaine sat next to Kurt at the table, careful not to disturb any of the beads.

Kurt was still, for a moment, and then he narrowed his eyes a little. "Why did you pick me to sing that song with?"

_Oh Shit. He knows. He knows. Everyone Knows. Oh God. Inevitable conclusion, right? Lie. Say it's nothing. Lie, say Wes picked it. _"Kurt, there is a moment," _Whatwhatwhatwhat am I doing? "_When you say to yourself, 'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.'"

Oh Holy Tootsie Roll. What kind of cheesiness is this. _Should have practiced should have practiced. _Kurt was just staring at him, his eyes wide. _Just do it. Just do it._

"Watching you do Blackbird this week, that was a moment," he paused, "for me."

Kurt's expression didn't change. He needed to make this clear. "About you." Good. Clear.

But now-how do you say magnetic, interstellar galactic beacon feeling, without saying that? How do you explain that sense of the world shifting, pointing towards one person after all this time?

"You...moved me, Kurt. And this duet would...just be an excuse to spend more time with you." The last part was the easiest, and it came out of his mouth like an exhalation. There. He was done. That's how it was. That's how he felt.

And Kurt-Kurt wasn't moving or doing anything. His face was so wide and open and lovely and Blaine felt like the clarity of the morning had disappeared, now he was all fuzzy and drowning in Kurt. His heart was beating so wildly and so erratically he briefly considered calling for a time out. But no. This was Kurt, there was no time out. Everything was real. And now his words felt empty. Hollow. What did a duet matter? There was still that space between them, that unbreachable gap.

So he leaned over, giving Kurt more than enough time to say no, and placed his lips, gently, against Kurt's.

_Holy Wowza. Tingling, electric lips, Oh my god this is _Kurt_. _

After a second Kurt opened his lips just a little, and then tightened them again in a kiss of his own. And then they both did it at the same time. And then Kurt's hand _Kurt's hand_ cupped the side of his face. And their lips were moving against each other, and with each miniscule movement of skin against skin, Blaine felt lightning bolts headed straight down for his South American penninsula. They were kissing. He and Kurt were _kissing_. It was smooth and simple but they were both pressing forward, and Blaine couldn't get enough of this and maybe Kurt couldn't get enough of this too.

But Blaine ended the kiss, pulling back and looking at Kurt for just a second, because Kurt hadn't said yes but he hadn't said no, and Blaine didn't want to take without-without permission. He should give Kurt space. He sat back down in his own chair.

But By All the Knights of the Round Table, that's how THAT was supposed to feel. Yes. 100% gay. No question. 100% into Kurt. Yup.

Blaine could feel his face getting red, and he pressed his fist to his mouth. "We should practice."

And then beside him he heard Kurt as he breathed out, suddenly. And then Kurt said, "I thought we were?"

Blaine looked over at him, at the beginning of a smile, at his eyes already crinkling upwards, and he could feel The Magnet even stronger than before, if that was possible, and there was no choice but to practically leap out of his chair, and kiss Kurt again. And again. And again. Oh god, do not stop. This is amazing.

"This is amazing," Blaine said, between breaths. He was practically sitting in Kurt's lap, his hands cradling Kurt's head, stroking Kurt's hair. He smiled against Kurt's lips. Kurt held Blaine's head close with one hand behind his neck, and the other was on Blaine's bicep, trying to pull closer that way.

Kurt gave a short, breathy laugh. "I know. You're not-not close enough." Kurt said, and tugged Blaine's head forward, so they could drag their tongues and lips over each other's again.

After a moment Blaine scooched his torso a little bit closer to Kurt's, but found his way blocked by the arm rests of the chair. He sighed in frustration. "Never close enough."

Kurt laughed again. "I'm sure there are ways to be closer."

Blaine groaned, and rested his forehead on Kurt's. "Oh God, Kurt. We're in the lounge."

Kurt inhaled sharply. "Right. Right. Shouldn't. Right."

"Kurt, I-" Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, and face. His chest and heart felt glued to Kurt's, felt like they were flying out the window. Why was he so stupid? Why was he so oblivious? How had he not known about this feeling? And Kurt had to put up with his ridiculousness. "I'm sorry it took me-I'm sorry I didn't know-I was such a dumbass-Really, I-"

Kurt crushed their lips together again and Blaine was perfectly happy to continue like that. When Kurt pulled back _no-don't _he was smiling. "Blackbird? Really? That's all I had to do? Cry while singing a Beatles song? I do that like, every other week."

"I don't know. I just. Everything fit together. You and. You and me?"

"Yeah. You and me." Kurt sighed, and they let their foreheads rest together, eyes closed. Blaine felt their breathing synch up and his whole world settled into place.

* * *

><p>Blaine tasted like coffee, a little, and a little like <em>man<em>, and a little just like saliva. But mostly Blaine's lips felt like electric shock therapy to his system. Skin on skin felt so good. And now that Kurt knew _why_ Blaine was touching him, he could just enjoy it, instead of tensing up and trying not to let himself get carried away.

Like now. They were singing, but their fingers were intertwined and their knees pressing together. He could stroke the skin of Blaine's hand, watch Blaine shudder just a little bit, and feel completely at peace with the entire situation. He wanted more, yes, he wanted more. But they had to do this. If they figured this song out then they could go up to his dorm room and watch Starship. Maybe they weren't ready for full frontal nudity or anything, but maybe Blaine would wash the product out of his hair, and they might put on pajamas, and then they could just breathe each other in.

Which is sort of what was happening now, anyway. Every time the song ended they ended up staring at each other for about thirty seconds without noticing the tape had gone off. Kurt could just _look_ at Blaine, without fear. His jaw, his eyes, lighter and warmer than before, his hair, his skin, his everything.

God he was so beautiful. So Gorgeous.

Half the time he forgot he had a body, and felt like he was ethereally floating in front of Blaine like some sort of Casper; half the time he was aware of his body only because his cheeks hurt from smiling so much; and the other half of the time he wanted to burrow into Blaine, wrap himself in Blaine's arms and clothes and skin and hair and smell.

Blaine was _his._

"You're mine." He whispered, when the song was over.

"All yours." Blaine whispered back.

"Kiss me."

And Blaine did.

* * *

><p>David's phone rang just after he'd gotten off the line with Jenny and she had begrudgingly agreed to bring brownie bars-but only because <em>Wes<em> needed them, not because she was bringing them for _David, _who was still _in the dog house._

So David was feeling pretty good, all in all. "Hello Trent! What's going on!"

Trent spoke in a harsh whisper. "The eagle has left the nest. Repeat, the eagle has left the nest."

"Trent, stop being so dramatic. What the hell is 'the eagle has left the nest' supposed to mean?"

"It means, if you'd be quiet, that I went back to the Lounge to see if I'd left my watch there-"

"I have your watch, Trent, you leant it to me in third period, remember?"

"Oh. Right. God! Shut up! This is important!"

"Then spit it out!"

"I found BLAINE AND KURT MAKING OUT ON THE COUCH."

"You WHAT?"

"I told you it was important! They were all over each other!"

"Vertical or horizontal?"

"Vertical, at the moment, but I don't know, maybe horizontal sometimes!"

"Oh my god. Oh my God. Wes, come here. No, just listen. Come closer or you won't hear him. Ok, Trent, say it again."

"BLAINE AND KURT, MAKING OUT, ON THE COUCH, IN THE LOUNGE."

"Oh my god," Trent could hear Wes gaping, and then smiling, and then he could hear the high five that David and Wes were probably giving each other at that very moment.

David laughed. "It kind of sounds like Clue. Blaine and Kurt making out in the lounge with...with the lube!"

"Oh god, David, stop that. That's not appropriate."

"Blaine and Kurt, in the library, studying up with the Kama Sutra."

"Give me the phone." There was a brief moment of silence, and then Wes's breath was back in Trent's ear. "I'm going to hang up now, Trent, and hit my roommate over the head with a book."

"You do that. I'll let everyone else know to stay out of the lounge."

"Great."

"Wes?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think they'll have practiced enough for us to win at Regional's."

Wes was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I kind of figured."

"It's still ok, though, right?"

Wes groaned. "Yeah. I mean there's nothing we could do about it, and even if there was-it was becoming physically painful to be in the same room with them."

"It might be worse now."

"Well, in your text, just tell everyone to keep their eyes out for empty closets and classrooms we can usher them into at any given moment."

"Got it. I'm really-I'm really happy for them."

"Yeah, me too."

Trent could hear David in the background, "Blaine and Kurt in the Cafeteria, heating up the sausages."

"Talk to you later, Trent."

Trent hung up and immediately began a Warbler-wide text, after carefully omitting Blaine and Kurt's names.

_Klaine is officially official! Stay out of the main lounge, where they are currently making out! W says to keep your eyes open for any empty classrooms, deserted hallways, or open closets we can usher them into in the upcoming weeks, for our own sanity. Remember, subtlety is the name of the game!-T._

A minute later his inbox was flooded.

_Bow chicka bow wow!- C_

_ Get Some! WOOP WOOP!- M_

_ Heading to the lounge now-TH _

_ Nice. ;-) -M.N_

_ Thank God, Finally.-A_

_ YES! CALLED IT, u o me 20$, Ben!- J.M_

_ Yup, they're still making out.-TH._

_ I bet u 20$ K's a topper.-B.R_

_ ur on, have u seen K being a bitch? B falls on his knees for that shit-J.M_

_ Dude, if they can get some, why can't I?-M_

_ I have Jennifer's Body, if you want to watch, Marc.-J.T_

_ Woah, seriously, guys, they're STILL making out.-TH _

_ I thought they were already together? Isn't that what the 'duet' at practice was all about?-D_

_ B is so whipped.-P_

_ Boo Yah and a bottle of Rum. Hit it, Blaine!- Z_

_ I've got two closets in mind. Used them last month with that Heather Chick.-M_

_ They're like fish. I don't think they've come up for air once. -TH_

_ Breathe through the nose, dumbass-J.M_

_ Thad, come watch Jennifer's body with us, and leave Klaine alone- J.T_

_ Do u have nachos. -TH_

_ Yes. -J.T._

_ ur on.-TH_

* * *

><p>Despite driving the Warbler's hard on Friday, and getting them all up early for a big, protein filled breakfast on Saturday, Wes was not as surprised or upset as he thought he'd be when New Directions took first. After all, even Kurt hadn't seemed to know they were going to write all their own songs. IV drips, pushups AND song writing? When did these kids have time to sleep?<p>

And it had been its own reward, watching Kurt and Blaine perform first for the Warblers, and then the competition itself. They had turned a song about being alone, about letting go of someone, and turned it into an epiphany song about new love. How had they managed that? Wes knew, once the judges were introduced, that Blaine and Kurt's hormones would fly all over the auditorium and set a couple key people on edge.

But honestly, that was probably a good thing.

Who could deny them this opportunity to stand in the spotlights, maybe five feet apart, and sing to each other, looking like they'd forgotten they were on stage at all? Kurt's chin dipped down and Blaine's dipped up when they sang, "Lost sight, couldn't see, When it was you and me," like they had turned that line into something wholey different than what the words originally intended, and actually Wes could belive that. He belived that Blaine (maybe Kurt, too) _could_ see clearer now that they weren't separated any longer. In the last couple days, Blaine had seemed calmer, happier, and more able to focus, odd as that sounded. He was normally kind of all over the place, but now that he was with Kurt-he just seemed more mature, more grounded. "Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight," when it was actually a duet, just confirmed that, and then when they sang "I'm beginning to see the light," together, and their voices coalesced perfectly for "Blow the candles out, but I think I'll be all right," Wes didn't know how the audience _didn't _leap out of their seats, applauding wildly.

Oh, but those hormones, and those _key_ people, and this was Ohio. Wes barely contained an inappropriate curse word.

Afterwards, when he saw Blaine and Kurt in the wings, holding hands and pressing their foreheads together, murmuring to one another, he knew it had been worth it. All of it was worth it. He also knew, when he saw Kurt run up to greet New Directions like he was still a part of that school, that group, congratulating them and exclaiming wildly over the original songs, that Kurt wouldn't stay in Dalton very long, and so, probably, neither would Blaine.

That hurt the most; he'd come to rely on Blaine and had thought he would be able to continue to do so throughout senior year as well. David was his best friend, but David was graduating in a couple months and Blaine was-Blaine was the voice of the Warblers. But as Joey had said in his text, Blaine falls on his knees for that shit, and would follow Kurt anywhere. And Blaine was only a temporary Dalton boy-he'd needed Dalton as a sanctuary, and could now leave Dalton in peace. He wasn't of Dalton blood, like Wes or David.

Maybe that was for the best. Wes smiled, to himself, a little, and went to herd the guys away from where Kurt and Blaine were wrapped up in each other back stage. They'd done their best, they'd made it to regional's, which they hadn't done last year. This was still good; still a win, of sorts.

You win some and you lose some. Wes would just have to explain to Blaine that he could do whatever he wanted as long as he was invited to the wedding. Yes. Good Plan. Good Plan.

And now-he could probably interest David in a good couple hours of Halo, since they now had less on their plates. Excellent.

END.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Epilogue coming shortly! And then maybe some deleted scenes. Just thought this was the appropriate place to end the story. **


	7. Epilogue

**A/N: So this is a lot of fluff, and some random Smut, and it's not as funny as the chapters before it-but it's an epilogue and I didn't want it to be centered around one or the other. This is about them both. Plus I really loove Klaine snuggles. **

**Thanks so much for all your reviews, they've been so heartening! **

**Also: What did you guys think of the Glee Project? I thought it was a little uncomfortable. I can't decide if I like it and want to get to know all the contestants, or if I just want to wait till next season and get to know their character. Thoughts? **

**Ryan Murphy, Gros Bisous. Je Vous Adorez! You own this. **

* * *

><p>Epilogue:<p>

It had been three months and showed no signs of slowing down. When Kurt left for McKinley, Blaine had worried that maybe absence wouldn't make the heart grow fonder. But it hadn't changed anything. And Prom-prom was just-incredible and scary and amazing all at once.

So as he sat across from Kurt in their coffee shop, Kurt describing Santana's death lunge for Rachel and Finn in exquisite, perfect comedic detail, without seeming anguished himself-Blaine knew. This was not a fluke. This was not a high school fling. This was real.

So he said it. "I love you."

And Kurt, looking delighted and surprised and trying not to spit his coffee all over the place, had said, "I love you too."

They'd gone back to talking about their auditions for the summer, their song selections. They had left the coffee shop talking about silly, trivial things. Before they said goodbye, to go to school, Kurt had replaced one fallen curl from Blaine's hair, and Blaine had cupped Kurt's face just briefly, one thumb stroking the corner of his lip, before they kissed quickly.

"See you after school?"

"You're picking me up after Glee, right?"

"Right. And, um. Your parents-"

"Out of the house. Working late."

"Great." One last kiss and they headed off to their respective cars.

xxx

That afternoon Blaine was waiting for Kurt, leaning on his car, hands in his pockets. How many times had he done this, leaned just like this, waited just like this? A million times. A million more times to go. All next year he'd wait like this. Well, maybe. As Kurt walked up to him, _to him_, and Blaine wondered, briefly, why they couldn't be walking back to the car together. Why did they need to reunite? Whywhywhy.

They kissed hello, Kurt got into the passenger side, and Blaine pulled out of the parking lot to the first track of his new Taylor Swift CD.

"I can't believe you broke down and bought that."

"Oh come on, I had to have something to think about while you were in New York."

"Yeah but, Taylor Swift-"

"What? She's totally catchy. Come on, you know you like her."

"I admit nothing," Kurt said, sticking his nose up in the air like he always did.

Blaine sang along to a couple lines, stretching his mouth as open as possible, bouncing up and down a little. "If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so why can't you seeeeeee, you belong with meeeeee!"

"That's my line," Kurt said.

Blaine just laughed.

Kurt smiled briefly and crossed his legs. "So."

"So."

"I told Rachel about you and I going to New York when we graduate."

Blaine placed his hand, palm up, on Kurt's lap. Kurt took it. "Yeah? What did she say? Is she in? Is Finn going to move heavy things for us?"

"Yes. She's in; Finn-maybe." He looked hesitant.

"Is there something else?" Blaine asked. Kurt leaned over and turned the music down.

"Blaine, I know this morning-I mean, we said it."

Blaine looked from Kurt to the road. "I meant it. I'll say it again. I love you. I love you I love you I love you." He brought Kurt's hand up to his mouth and kissed it. Kurt knew he had a goofy smile on his face, but so did Blaine, so they were even.

Kurt blushed. "I love you too. More than-" Kurt looked down at their hands, "More than anything. So there's that. And we've talked about New York and College. So...you need to know that it's not just talk for me. I mean it. I want you for-for college, for after college, for all the future that I can imagine. If you want something different then New York, or different than music, or different-well you need to say something because I don't want to think about just my dreams. I want to think about _our_ dreams."

_Oh God. _"Kurt." Blaine squeezed his hand briefly, and smoothed the skin on Kurt's wrist with his thumb. "Your dreams are my dreams. I can do everything I want in New York, and more. And you'd be there, and you'd be happy there, and so...so I'd be happy there. It's not just talk for me, either. I want you for college and after college and every other imaginable future too."

Kurt let out a shuddering sigh. "Ok. Ok. Good."

Blaine tensed his jaw just a little. "I have to tell you something else, too. Sort of the same idea."

Kurt turned his head towards Blaine. "Ok. Hit me with it."

"I was thinking of, um. Not returning to Dalton next fall."

"What? But you love Dalton."

Blaine looked up, squinting against the sun, checking the stoplight they were going through. "Well. I love the security of Dalton. I love the challenge of Dalton. But I've been there for two and a half years now. I've got a 4.0 GPA, enough teacher recs to fill a school bus, and-and no you."

"You have me. You always have me," Kurt said, softly.

"I know, but not during the day." Blaine paused, put on the brakes for a school bus to cross an intersection, and then continued. "I was thinking about transferring to McKinley." Kurt's eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened. "Wait, before you say anything. I was thinking about it because on my college aps they'll already have my stellar academic performance from a prestigious school. They'll already have my teacher recs, and counselor recs, and my history with the Warblers. And then I can add to that, in my personal essays, about how I decided to face regular Ohio, to go back to the public school system and try to help change it while I could. I mean, you and I could set up a real branch of PFLAG, and STARS, and every other LGBT community we can think of! We could get the ACLU involved, and Sue didn't seem opposed to any of those measures after what you went through last year. I think it could show real 'leadership potential'."

"It's not going to change overnight, just because you decide to make it so," Kurt said.

Blaine nodded. "I know. I'm not expecting it to. I'm just saying I want to _try,_ at least, and beyond that-I want to be in school with you every day. I want to experience a different type of Glee club. In college it'll be different. There won't really be show choirs-it'll be musical theatre or music in general. The numbers you guys perform look like so much fun."

"Sometimes they are."

"Well yeah. I know. And also, I don't want to hide behind a blazer anymore; _you_ don't. I feel like I'm," Blaine bit his lip. He was felt a hot stab of guilt lace through him. "I feel like Dalton is becoming a cop out for me."

"Woah Woah, Blaine-"

He shook his head. "I don't mean-I mean, at first, yeah, I needed to get out of my old school. I needed a no bullying policy, just like you did. And then I needed a challenging academic environment so I didn't become just another lazy ass teenager. But now-I mean, seeing you go back to McKinley, face Karofsky-hell, try to _help_ Karofsky, after what he did to you... I just don't want to feel like I'm not as awesome as you are. You're pushing me to try and do more things and that's a good thing."

"Blaine, Dalton is good for you. The Warblers are your family."

"Well, um. Actually," he flicked a nervous glance at Kurt.

"What."

"Since-you-left-not-so-much," he said, in one breath.

"What? You haven't said anything about this."

"They're great guys. And they're nosy as hell. And I think they gush about you and I more than _I_ do, which is saying something. And-especially Wes, and David...but ever since you left, I just feel like _you're_ my family. So uh-so there's that." He concentrated on the road. He really felt awful about his gradual separation with the Warbler's that had been happening since March. After Kurt left they had sung at a couple old age homes, a couple malls, but they hadn't been as banded together as normal. Partly because their competition year was over, and partly it was because every day after school and every weekend Blaine left Westerville to come hang out in Lima. With Kurt. With New Directions.

"Wow. Really?"

"Yeah. What's it like for you?"

"I don't know. I-I mean, New Directions is where I need to be. And _you're_ where I need to be, too. I have both. I couldn't give up either. I didn't think-I mean I just assumed you felt the same way about the Warblers."

"You've known Mercedes since elementary school though, and Finn since Middle school."

"And Rachel even longer."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We were in day care together. We regularly got into screaming matches over which Barbie got to be Maria." Kurt flicked some lint off his pant leg.

Blaine grinned. "That is _not_ surprising." He switched gears. "But that's what I'm saying. David and Wes are like that with each other, I think they had the same wet nurse." He rolled his eyes. "But I came in after freshman year had started, and everyone had their roommates, and their groups already." He paused. "Plus, um. New Directions has about a ninety percent shot of going to Nationals again next year, and, as long as no one macks out on stage, about a ninety percent chance of landing in the top five."

"Oh my god, Please don't tell me you're leaving the Warblers so you can go to Nationals."

"No. Kurt." Blaine looked Kurt full in the eyes, and then quickly back to the road again. "I'm not. I would never transfer just for that. I've been thinking a lot about this and I haven't made a decision. If you don't think I should transfer then I won't."

"Blaine that's not what I'm saying, Of _course_ I want you at McKinley with me all the time, but-"

"But?"

"I just don't want you to be hasty about this. You've made Dalton your home. Even if two and a half years ago they already had their cliques...they _worship _you now. If Dalton were a kingdom you'd be like, Princess Di, without the divorce and the death and, if I may say so, way hotter."

Blaine laughed. "Thanks, babe."

"Anytime. So if you want to transfer-I just want to be sure it's the best decision for you. I don't want you to be thinking only about me." Kurt leaned his head back against the car seat and closed his eyes.

Blaine was silent for a moment. Finally he said, quietly, "I always think about you. Ever since Blackbird, every other thought I have is one about you."

Kurt sighed, and turned to look at Blaine as he made the final turn onto Kurt's street, and then sidled the car up to the curb. "Yeah. I know. Ever since Teenage Dream, every other one of my thoughts has been about _you_."

"So?" Blaine asked, as he put the car in park and unbuckled so he could turn towards Kurt fully.

"Ugh, Blaine! I'm trying to sound responsible here! Do you think I _don't_ want you at school with me all day? Do you think I'm not like, throwing a flash mob in my head at the thought of you being closer to me? I AM. I want you as close and as often as I can have you but I want to be sure it's the best decision before I get all selfish and _demand_ that you transfer _right now_."

Blaine's eyes twinkled a little. They were in front of Kurt's house, no parents in sight, and they'd been talking about this long enough. "You would _demand?_"

"Oh, you better believe it, Buster. I would demand so hard-"

"Oh you would, would you? How hard would you demand?" he challenged Kurt.

Kurt didn't say anything at first, just cocked his head a little to the side, raised Blaine's hand up to his mouth and placed a very soft kiss to the inside of Blaine's wrist, letting his tongue flick out at the pulse point at the last second. Blaine's pupil's dilated, and he shifted in his seat. Kurt then leaned over whispered in Blaine's ear. "As hard as you are right now. That's how hard I'd demand."

Well now Blaine was _that_ hard, if he wasn't before. "Kurt. Should we um. Should we. I mean."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Blaine." Kurt said, looking up through his lashes.

Blaine whispered a laugh, and then brushed his nose against Kurt's in an eskimo kiss. He bypassed Kurt's lips and skimmed his nose along Kurt's jaw and up to his ear. Blaine barred his teeth slightly and bit gently at his earlobe, flicking his tongue out at the last second, and turning the bite into a gentle sucking.

"Blaine." Kurt moaned, and fisted his hands into Blaine's lapels.

"Yes, Kurt?" Blaine asked softly as he trailed his lips along the line of Kurt's neck to the collar of his shirt and nipped the skin there.

Kurt just moved back a little and dipped his head down to capture Blaine's lips. Blaine opened his mouth and Kurt's tongue flew in. No matter how many times they did this it never got old, it always felt electric, and Kurt thought that if all his other dreams fell flat, at least he had Blaine to kiss.

Soon that wasn't enough, and Kurt shuffled onto his knees and straddled Blaine's lap, trying to press forward, into Blaine, rather than backwards, on to the steering wheel horn. Blaine's hands wrapped around to cup Kurt's butt and push him forward. This was the best feeling, Kurt crawling towards him, Kurt pressing against him. Kurt raised his knees and ground his ass into Blaine's lap.

"Ugnh." Blaine grunted, and then broke the kiss and opened his eyes, which were almost black. "Inside," he panted. "Need to see you. Need-all of you. A week, Kurt, it's been a_ week._"

"Yes." Kurt twisted around and tried to open the door but he couldn't make the lever work. Both men laughed, shaky, breathy laughs, and Blaine unlocked the door. Kurt pulled so hard he almost fell out onto the pavement, but Blaine caught hold of his legs and then helped Kurt out. By the time they were both out of the car they were laughing, and stopping every few seconds to kiss, and then they were rushing up to the door, unlocking it, stumbling into the hallway.

"Finn?" Blaine asked as he cupped Kurt's face and connected their mouths once again.

Kurt breathed, harshly, and leaned back to say, "Something about Rachel. Together? I don't know."

"Shut up," Blaine growled, and then started backing Kurt up to the stairwell.

They made it up the stairs, but halted there because Blaine pushed Kurt against a wall. Kurt could feel Blaine's hands sneaking up under his shirt and in one fluid movement he took it off, and started to tug at Blaine's. Blaine whipped his off with similar impatience.

"Do you know how much I thought about you this week?" Blaine asked, harshly, as he gripped Kurt's hip bones and thrust against them.

Kurt groaned. Blaine rutted into Kurt's hips again.

"Do you know how proud I am of you? How in love I am with you?"

"Blaine. More." Kurt's head thunked back against the wall and his hips bucked in response.

"Do you want me?" Blaine asked in his ear as he thrust up once again.

"Ngh."

"Say it, Kurt, say it."

"I want you."

"What do you want?"

"I want your cock, Blaine, I want your fucking cock." Kurt angled his head, leaning down, and bit down on Blaine's neck. "I want your smell and your chest and your cock."

Blaine smiled, rearing back to capture Kurt's mouth again. He swirled his tongue around Kurt's, making Kurt groan. He retrieved his tongue and let his mouth hover against Kurt's lips. "I want your cock too, Kurt. I want it down my throat, and I want it in my ass, and I want everything that's attached to it. All the time." He pecked Kurt's lips once more and then started sinking to his knees.

Blaine moved his hands to the front of Kurt's jeans and managed to unbuckle and unzip them with only a little bit of trembling. "That's another reason I want to go to McKinley, Kurt. So I can watch you walk around all day in these-these fucking skinny jeans. Fuck."

In one tug Blaine got Kurt's jeans and underwear pooling around his ankles, and his cock free. Kurt groaned again as Blaine swallowed his cock without a second thought, his tongue pressing against the vein on the underside. Blaine's hands were tight around Kurt's hip and butt, and the wetwarm heat just felt really freaking unbelievable. How had they not done this in a week? Why had he gone to New York? It didn't matter it didn't matter. All that mattered was Blaine's hair and scalp under his fingers, Blaine's soft moans reverberating around his cock.

"Blaine I'm-It's-Blaine-"

"Mm," Blaine gave one more suck and then started kissing his way up Kurt's torso. "Don't want this ending too soon."

"Oh god, you tease." Kurt whispered.

Blaine let his hands rest lightly on Kurt's hips. He looked into Kurt's glazed eyes. "I love you."

Kurt arched his eyebrow. "You love me, huh?"

"Yes."

"What did you say you wanted?" He stepped out of his jeans and underwear, and slowly walked forward, staring Blaine down, until Blaine bumped into the opposite wall and was pinned in place with Kurt's body.

"I-what?"

"You said you wanted my cock down your throat."

"Check," Blaine said, harshly.

Kurt whispered hotly in Blaine's ear. "And in your ass..."

Blaine's eyes fluttered closed. "Yes. Yes Yes."

"Good." He stepped back from Blaine, considering him. "Take your pants off and get on my bed. Now."

Blaine smiled one, blinding smile before running into Kurt's room, hands busy with his buckle and zipper-a harder task than Kurt's, somehow. But he managed them, finally, and Kurt watched as he stripped off his pants, then his underwear.

"Blaine someday I'm going to make you walk around the house all day in nothing but your underwear. You're seriously the hottest thing on two legs in those things."

Blaine caught himself staring at Kurt, but found his voice. "Fine. I'd make you do the same thing. For the same reason."

"Deal. Get on the bed, on your back."

Now naked, Blaine sprang onto the bed and landed on his back, spreading his legs and pointing his knees up. Kurt meandered over to the nightstand and found the lube he kept there. Blaine watched him, stroking himself lightly.

"It was difficult for me, Blaine, being in New York. I was never alone. And yet I kept thinking about you. Even when I was in the shower one of the girls would be at the sink, doing her makeup or hair." He squirted a some lube on his fingers, and leaned over Blaine as his fingers sought out Blaine's entrance and circled him lightly.

Blaine gasped.

"I kept remembering the faces you make." Kurt said, as he inserted one finger and watched as Blaine arched his neck, pushing his head down into the mattress and his butt down on Kurt's finger. "This face, here."

"Kurt. Kurt. God," Blaine rasped out.

"And this one." Kurt inserted another finger, slid them in and out, and scissored them a little as Blaine opened his mouth to intake as much air as possible.

"More, Kurt, More." Blaine grabbed the sheets of the bed as he ground his ass down on Kurt's fingers.

"You're fucking yourself on my fingers, Blaine."

"Yes!"

"Do you want my cock that badly?"

"I want...more..." Blaine said.

"More?" Kurt slid in a third finger, and crooked all three forward, where he knew Blaine's prostate would be.

"Ahh! Kurt!" Blaine cried, as Kurt found his goal.

"Is that good?"

"Yes, Yes, More-I want you inside me. Fuck me, Kurt, Please." Blaine looked up at Kurt, his eyes a little wild. "Please Kurt, Please," he whimpered, and Kurt gasped a little.

"God Blaine, you're so fucking-you're so fucking hot like this. I mean you're hot all the time but just-Jesus." Kurt slid all three fingers out, grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked up his cock.

Before Blaine could whine at the loss of pressure Kurt was lined up. "Ready?"

"Now, Kurt. Now."

Kurt slid forward, slowly, letting Blaine get used to being stretched so far. It had been a week, and they hadn't been having sex for that long. They were remarkably good at it, both he and Blaine agreed they could win the sex Olympics any day, but he still didn't want to go too fast.

"More."

"Baby."

"_Move._"

So Kurt drew himself almost all the way out, and then thrust back in again. Blaine moaned, and wrapped his legs around Kurt's back, pressing his heels against Kurt's butt so that he could press into Kurt's thrusts harder. Blaine's hand was still jerking himself off. On the next thrust Kurt dipped his head down and kissed Blaine, mimicking with his tongue what his cock was doing inside his boyfriend.

Blaine brought one hand up to Kurt's face and cradled his cheek. They broke the kiss and kept their foreheads together as they both glanced down, between them.

"That's so hott," Blaine said, watching Kurt's abdomen contract and expand as he thrust, watching his own cock pulsing in his hand and against his stomach.

"Faster."

"Yes."

Kurt sped up, a little recklessly, pounding into Blaine, feeling like this was where he wanted to be all the time, inside Blaine, feeling the tightness and heat enveloping him fully, their chests rubbing together, Blaine's arms around him and moaning in his ear.

"Blaine. Love you. Need you all the time. You're so tight...can't be- can't be without you. Miss you. need you. Love you. Blaine." Kurt whispered, as his cock got impossibly harder and his stomach coiled tighter. He could feel the cum in his balls, getting ready.

His words sent Blaine over the edge. He cried out, "Kurt!" and came in between them. Kurt could feel the hot splashes on his chest, Blaine's muscles tightening around him, and that cinched the deal. He came too, groaning, feeling himself pumping cum inside Blaine, his hips jerking helplessly against Blaine's ass as he squeezed his eyes shut and rode out his orgasm.

Both men were panting and sweaty. After a minute Kurt slid out of Blaine, and collapsed.

"Oh holy Buffalo." Blaine whispered.

Kurt chuckled, and flung an arm across Blaine's chest, curling his hand up to fist into Blaine's damp curls. Blaine turned his head and kissed Kurt's wrist.

"We are so good at that," Blaine said, like he couldn't believe it.

Kurt smiled. "All you, babe. You're like, some sort of sex god sent down to make me crazy."

"I disagree completely. Of either of us, clearly _you're _the sex god."

"Ok."

Blaine laughed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm holding you to that nothing but underwear day. Someday this summer, maybe if your parents go away for a weekend."

"Sounds good to me."

After a moment Kurt groaned and rolled off the bed. He went into the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and cleaned Blaine up, getting both of them as clean as he could, before flinging the washcloth into his hamper, retrieving his pants from the hallway, and closing the door.

"We didn't even close the door," Kurt said, shaking his head as he folded his jeans and pulled on sweatpants.

Blaine just watched him, his arms behind his head. He grinned. "That's because I almost fucked you in the hallway."

"Mm." Kurt crept back into bed and tugged on Blaine until Blaine was draped over him. Kurt closed his eyes as Blaine skimmed his fingers over Kurt's torso, occasionally pressing kisses to his skin.

"Blaine?" Kurt cracked one eye open.

"Mm?" Blaine pressed another kiss to Kurt's sternum, and swept his hand over the slight definition of his pec's.

"I love you so much."

Blaine could _feel_ Kurt's words, burrowing into his chest. "Oh babe," he said, kissing Kurt softly on the lips. "I do too. You have no idea."

Kurt sighed and closed his eyes again.

Blaine's hand paused against Kurt's stomach and Kurt whined a little in protest.

"Kurt?" Blaine's tone was higher, a little more unsure.

"Mm?"

"Are you-Do you think I should transfer?"

Kurt opened his eyes, and with a sigh shifted so he was on his side with his hand propping up his head. "I think you've listed a lot of good reasons to transfer," he said. "I think you could probably make it look really good on college aps, and I think it would be good for you to see what a public school is like, again, and come to terms with some of those things from your past. But the Warblers, Blaine," he paused. "They _dote _on you. They _need _you. They would follow you off a cliff."

Blaine rolled his eyes and watched his hand as it traced Kurt's ribs.

Kurt reached out to caress Blaine's jaw. "Don't -you know it's true."

Blaine huffed and dropped his hand to the bed."Yeah, I know. Jeff told me once that everyone there had man crushes on me."

"I knew it!"

"Yeah."

Kurt laughed. "No, really, I totally called it! I mean, I knew _I_ was head over heels in love with you, but at least I knew I wanted to...you know, actually lick you up one side and down another. Those poor guys-in love with you and not able to do anything about it."

Blaine smiled. "Well I'd prefer it if you were the only one to lick me. Anyone else would just be-messy."

"I wouldn't let anyone else lick you. You're mine and it's going to stay that way."

"Good. Keep me away from those devoted straight guys."

"Ugh! A devoted straight guy. What a drag." Kurt pushed Blaine onto his back and rested his head against Blaine's chest. Blaine's hand immediately came up to card through Kurt's hair.

"I know," Blaine said. "Really. And you're right. I have to talk to Wes about it. I mean, if you and I decide transferring is the best thing, he won't be able to stop me, but it would be good to get his take on things."

"I think he'll be upset; I think he was hoping you would take David's place next year, since David graduated."

"I don't know what they'll do without each other, but honestly, I wouldn't be very good for a council position. I'm too rambunctious and goofy. Wes needs someone like Trent, who loves tradition above all else."

"Maybe. But you should talk to Wes about it."

"Ok."

"Soon. Today. This afternoon."

Blaine tilted Kurt's head up to look at him. "Not _this_ afternoon."

Kurt smiled. "Right. I meant tomorrow afternoon."

"Right. Tomorrow is a good time." Blaine leaned down and swiftly pecked him on the lips.

"No matter what you decide, though, you know you'll get to keep all of us, right? Wes isn't going to hate you or stop talking to you if you transfer."

"Yeah. Yeah I know."

"And I'm certainly not going to hate you if you stay at Dalton another year."

"Yeah, I know."

"So really, Blaine. This is your decision. It's up to you-what you want and think is best."

Blaine rubbed Kurt's back. "Holy Tootsie Noodles, Kurt. How did I get so lucky? How did I find you?"

Kurt barked out a laugh and pushed himself up so he could look at Blaine fully. "You? find me? I spied on your school, then transferred to your school, and even then had to practically shove my cock down your throat to get you to wake up and smell the pheromones!"

"Be crass, why don't you. Plus. It wasn't sex-until later, anyway."

"That's right." Kurt looked thoughtful. "Thank you, Pavarotti."

"He served us well in life and death," Blaine nodded solemnly.

"If only every death came with a bonus prize like that."

"That's an awful thing to say."

"It's true, though. Where would we be, without Pa-va-ro-tti?"

"Now you're just being cute."

"I'm always cute."

"True. True." Blaine kissed Kurt, slowly, once more. "I missed you this week."

"I missed you. I wanted you there with me so badly. Everywhere. Seeing everything I was seeing." Kurt ran the backs of his fingers against Blaine's cheek, down his throat and then to his chest.

"We'll be there together for college."

"And maybe again next spring for national's."

"Mm." Blaine kissed Kurt once again. "When are your parents coming home? I might be forced to have my wicked way with you again."

"Oh, save me please. Somebody help." Kurt teased, a half smile on his lips.

"You little imp. I _should_ have my wicked way with you."

"I don't know when they'll be home," Kurt admitted.

"Ugh. God Kurt. That's half the reason why I want to transfer. Honestly."

"So we can have sex during school hours? I mean, that's hot but I don't know if it would actually work in practice."

"No-I mean, it's hot but-no I mean, just being close to you. I feel like. Sometimes I feel like I'm lost at sea, or a raging hippogriff, or a maniacal bumper car when we're apart for too long. And then we'll meet again and - it's not like I feel like I'm following you...it's just that when you're closer by I feel like I can actually follow myself. Like my life has meaning and purpose and I'm a steam train, skimming along the tracks. Like everything is going to work out and I know what I want. When you're gone, or when we haven't talked in a while, I feel - separated from myself, somehow." He closed his eyes and tugged Kurt's head into the slot between his shoulder and chin. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and hummed softly.

After a minute Kurt kissed Blaine on the neck. "Maniacal bumper car, huh?"

Blaine chuckled, and kept his eyes closed. "You don't think that's too weird, or desperate, do you?"

"Surprisingly, no. I feel good about it. I'm relieved, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I-I feel like that too but I don't like to dwell on it. Like you're my own personal-I don't know, compass or Holy road or-"

"Or intergalactic space beacon, right, I know!"

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed together. "Well if you want to be a dork about it... I was going to say 'magnet' but I guess intergalactic space beacon..." but he started giggling and couldn't finish his statement.

"What? What's funny about that?"

Kurt buried his head into Blaine's side. "Have you been letting Wes and David drag you into Star Trek marathons again?"

"No, Maybe-I've used that image for months now! That's how I feel!"

"Oh gosh, I know I know, and it's not funny, it really-" he broke into giggles again, but then snapped his mouth shut and swallowed the rest of his laughter. "It's just adorable. I think you're adorable."

"Oh ha ha, very funny."

"I thought so." Blaine could still feel Kurt shaking a little, trying not to laugh outright.

He rolled his eyes. "So I'm your compass or holy road or magnet."

"Oh," Kurt nodded. "Yes. But I associate it with being in unrequited love, and like, following you around like an unwanted puppy, so when I feel it now-I guess I try to push it aside. Because I connect that feeling with not having you to come back to."

"You have me." Blaine breathed. "If you're a puppy-which you're not, by the way I don't know why you'd think you were, because you totally tell me what to do all the time-but even if you were a puppy, I'd want you. I _do_ want you."

"Thank goodness." Kurt closed his eyes. Then he laughed.

"What's funny now?"

"I'm just imagining you in McKinley next year. I'm imagining all the jocks falling in love with you the way the Warblers have. They'll be all, 'Blaine's so cool!' 'Yeah, We don't care that Blaine's gay!' 'Oh, don't slushy him, his hair is too awesome for that.'"

Blaine laughed. "Yeah, and if they _do_ slushy me, I'll just come in the next morning, holding an iced frappacino with someone's name on it."

"Oh my god, Blaine, you wouldn't."

"I don't know. Sometimes I wonder why you guys don't hit back."

"Because then it would just get worse and worse and worse."

"Yeah."

Blaine was drawing lopsided circles on Kurt's back. "Hey Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have my wicked way with you again?"

"What time is it?"

"Um. Not too late. We've got time."

"Then yes, you can have your wicked way with me." He leaned up and Blaine kissed him, slow and deep.

* * *

><p>Finn came home through the back door, closing it softly for once because Rachel was watching him from her car and he was taking one last minute to wave to her.<p>

As her car backed out of the driveway, Finn turned into the kitchen, but before he got very far he heard weird noises coming from upstairs; he could vaguely hear thumping and the sound of voices.

Finn tip toed to the bottom of the stairs in his fighting stance, picking his baseball bat up on the way. If there was a burglar in the house he wasn't going to let the creep get away. This was time to man up.

Finn got halfway up the stairs when he realized it was coming from Kurt's room. _Kurt's clothes! They're worth like, a million dollars!_ He had an image of some black clothed ninja carelessly ripping McQueen scarves off the hangers and stuffing them into cardboard boxes with a machete in hand.

It wasn't until he had cleared the landing, and was standing pretty much directly in front of Kurt's door, ready to throw it open and expose the perpetrator, that he heard the sound of a moan. And then-

"Blaine, God, Don't stop-Faster-There, yes, There-"

_HOLY BEJEEZUS. _Finn barely kept hold of the bat as he careened down the stairs and shoved his way out of the nearest door, flinging the bat on the ground. God those guys went at it like rabbits! Didn't they ever stop? Didn't they ever not let each other touch? Didn't they ever say, "No Finn, I don't want to get pregnant,"? Well? Didn't gay guys have to suffer through bitchy girlfriends too?

Obviously not. Obviously they could shack up whenever they felt like it. Obviously they could-

Eee-uck! Finn spasmed a little and shook his arms out. Life was unjust in the extreme.

He looked up at the house. He couldn't go back inside. So he called Puck.

"What."

"Dude. They're in there, _doing it_, again!"

"Man. They go at it like rabbits."

"I know! I know and I could hear them, and they were all manly, and stuff, and I thought they were a burglar, and then they weren't a burglar!"

"You thought sex sounded like you were getting robbed? You really _haven't _been getting any."

"Oh yeah, laugh it up at the guy who's _brother_ is having _sex _ in the _house_ with another _dude._"

"Don't be homophobic. Sex is sex."

"I know, and I'm cool with it, you know, if I don't think about it. And I definitely don't want to _hear _it."

"I'll have to talk Rachel into putting out for you. This wouldn't be a problem if you were getting laid."

"Yeah. Yeah, that'll help the situation a lot. Then, I'll be having sex with Rachel while hearing Kurt having sex with Blaine! NOT COOL."

"Calm down, Calm down. How close were they to finishing, do you think?"

"How am I supposed to know, Puck, How am I supposed to know!"

"Dude, if I were there, I guarantee you I could give you a projection of completion time accurate to the minute. What did it sound like."

"I don't know, moaning and stuff."

"That could mean anything."

"Well, and Kurt was saying-oh god, Kurt was saying, like, faster, there, yes blaine, there. Oh god."

"Was the 'oh god' you or them?"

"What? Me. I mean-them. I mean, both of us."

"Hmm. Well, in that case I think you should give them another ten minutes, and then bang the door loudly and start singing when you get into the house."

"Ten minutes!"

"Yeah, for post snuggle."

"Post snuggle?"

"Yeah. Everyone post snuggles, except for Santana, but I think she's a lesbian."

"Can't I just come over to your house?"

"Nope. Jewish night, man."

"But it's Monday."

"Yeah, well, Mom skipped a couple Saturdays, so tonight we're doing a super Sabbath. It's gonna be epic. But sorry, it's only for the circumcised among us."

"I'm-"

"Hudson, I know you are NOT about to tell me you're circumcised. Because you aren't."

"Ugh. Fine. What am I supposed to do for ten minutes?"

"Eight minutes now, since you've been freaking out."

"Fine, eight minutes."

"I don't know. Jack off; that's what I'd do after hearing someone have sex."

"Puck, I'm _outside_. And it was my _brother_."

"So?"

"You are no help what so ever."

"Yeah I am. I totally just gave you a time until it's all clear."

"If you're right, which maybe you aren't-"

"Oh, Look, Finn, sorry, but I gotta go. The Chalah is coming out."

"The what?"

"Just sit in your car or something, I don't know. See you tomorrow, you freaking pussy."

"Yeah. Bye." Finn snapped his phone shut and trudged around the house to his car. His keys were inside. He sat on the grass by the front tire.

It wasn't that he wasn't happy for Kurt, he knew it had been hard on him before Blaine, before Dalton, before Karofsky got nice for no apparent reason. But it was just so hard to be around them, sometimes. They looked at each other like their world was complete, like they didn't need anyone else, like they would rather be alone. And Finn was cool with that, and it didn't happen all the time, but when it did-Finn had no idea when it was going to happen. It would just sneak attack him. They'd be having a great conversation, watching football, maybe, and then a commercial for a pet shop would come on and Blaine would say, "Look, Kurt, a canary." And then the room would become _unbearable._

Finn held his head in his hands, but when Burt pulled the car up and said, "Finn, what's wrong? why are you out here?" Finn looked at him and lied. "I, uh, locked myself out again, and I think Kurt and Blaine are watching a movie. I knocked but they didn't hear me."

Burt rolled his eyes. "Those kids."

Finn followed him, making sure to slam the screen door behind him. The thing was, though, he wasn't sure Blaine and Kurt were kids. He didn't really know why, or how, but there was a difference between Kurt, Blaine and Finn.

And when Kurt came down stairs in his pajamas, Blaine following in a borrowed pair of Kurt's sweats, both of them looking a little too happy, rumpled, and touchy feely for their own good, Finn just swallowed anything he may have said or done, and said, "Hey Blaine. Good to see you, man."

"Yeah, good to see you too. Congrats for National's."

"Oh, yeah, well, I kinda ruined it."

"Sometimes you just gotta kiss them." Blaine shrugged as Kurt blushed and rolled his eyes. Oh he did not want to know. "You still have next year."

Finn stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. "Yeah. Yeah I guess. She's agreed to get back together with me, so that's good."

"Hey, good work!"

"Thanks. Um, so, the game's on. You wanna-?" He flung a shoulder in the direction of the TV.

"Um," Blaine looked at Kurt, "We're in the middle of a movie, but thanks. Next time."

"Sure, sure."

As Finn sat on the couch, dug his hand into a bag of nachos, and thought about it, he thought, it was ok. It was good. Also, maybe Puck was right. Maybe he _did_ need to get laid.

**Fini.**


End file.
